Falling Before Her Eyes
by Jentle55
Summary: Based on the movie but not your standard re-telling, read the story of Megamind and Roxanne's romance through his changing interpretations of Roxanne's hair.  Later chapters are a bit higher than T Rating mainly due to slight bit of gore and language
1. Chapter 1

**Notes: **This is my first posting onto Fanfiction, so be gentle. I have been posting this story to the Megamind Livejournal community, and it's been suggested I post it here to spread the love as well as to combat the sometimes restrictive character limit found in LJ. This story is my own interpretations of the movie and particularly the symbolism found in Roxanne's hair. I noted a lot of key emotional scenes were highlighted by her hair, what she did with it, or how it looked. So I set about writing this fanfic to describe my thoughts. I go into a lot of extra detail about events around and in between the actual movie scenes, so I have to stress that this is based 'loosely' on canon events. I use dialogue and action from the actual film, but try to keep the chapters as fresh as I can so it's not a standard retelling. I'll be posting more chapters soon. Enjoy!  
**Disclaimer:** 'Megamind' and all its characters are owned by _Dreamworks. _I own nothing.

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**Falling Before Her Eyes**

Chapter 1

Perhaps it was a human thing. One of those uncontrollable urges. Deeply engrained in genetic DNA, so it became as natural as filling your lungs with the next life-giving breath of oxygen. It seemed entirely ridiculous to him though. He sure didn't need to do it. Obviously. Anyone could tell that to look at him, especially since he wasn't even human. Not that he had much to compare with, in terms of his own heritage and whether his species did or did not participate in the activity he could only describe as a tick. What with potentially being the last surviving alien from his home planet, and all. Yet even without any real knowledge about his own race, or their traits, he was pretty sure they weren't afflicted with this particular character fault.

But that knowledge didn't make it any less annoying for him to watch.

The particular human in front of him did the same movement again, that same tick he was describing, and he could barely contain his own aggravated twitch in response. He narrowed his green eyes as if in warning, but the human seemed oblivious to its effects on him. _Par for the course_, he mused internally, choosing to focus his attention elsewhere to try and take his mind off of humans and their unfathomable actions. _Par for the course_? He was a little confused about that phrase, although he'd heard it used before. Was it supposed to be _Bar for the course_? Or was it _coarse_? Perhaps it was in reference to a physical rod that had a distinct texture to it. A Coarse Bar so to speak. Ah, who cared! It never mattered in the end. He'd confuse one saying for another, be corrected, and carry on. He never gave it more than a fleeting thought and a wave of his hand before leaping head long toward the next challenge (sometimes literally). He couldn't be befuddled by silly inconsequential things like that, when his brain was filled to overflowing with so many other amazing ideas!

Even after living his entire life (minus 8 days between birth and landing) on Earth, the lithe blue skinned alien had always struggled with social conventions like phrases such as that, and sometimes the pronunciation of words. Blame it on a massive intellect that swam constantly and had more important things to ponder than I before E, or whatever it was. You could also blame it on a poor upbringing. Criminals were never very renowned for their literacy skills, particularly those in the high-security facility he had been adopted into after his spacepod had crash landed into the exercise yard of the Metro City Prison for the Criminally Gifted. And with his troubles at _Shool_... He involuntarily shuddered at the memories. He had definitely been restricted in his education in that respect. Not that he really required much education. His intellect was staggering in its prowess, and even before crawling was an option, he was capable of devising the most ingenious inventions and machines. His immense, smooth shaped cranium wasn't just for show! But still, the complicated emphasis of the correct syllables of certain words... as well as social niceties, verbal cues, and etiquette... things like that still evaded his grasp. Which was fine for his line of work!

The Incredibly Handsome Criminal Genius and Master of all Villainy didn't need to have a perfect grasp of whether it was Metro City, or Metrocity that he was trying to take over and rule. He was capable of striking fear into the hearts of all of the sprawling metropolis's citizens with the mere whisper of his name, and that's all that really mattered. His epic battles were so legendary that... well they were legendary! For he, was Megamind! Arch nemesis of Metro Man and fantastically amazing evil doer!

And he was getting really annoyed with the human sitting and glaring at him and her damn human twitch of constantly trying to play with her hair.

"Will you please STOP that!" Megamind snapped, sitting upright in his tall captain's chair, raising his chin a fraction as if to make his glower that much more intimidating. It didn't have the desired effect.

"Well, what do you expect? You kidnap me, knock me out, put a bag over my head and tie me up," an irate Roxanne Ritchi grumbled back at him. She did it again, that incessant puffing and huffing of air, pursing her lips to blow at her bangs which were dishevelled and falling across her vision. "It's not like I can just brush my hair!" She wiggled in her bondage, tied to a steel chair in the center of the room, as if to prove she could not reach up to fix the errant hairs as she was apt to do CONSTANTLY.

"We put the bag on your head AFTER we tie you up," he corrected her staunchly. Her response was a fiery death glare which he conveniently ignored. "Well, if you're going to make a fuss about it, then at least get your facts straight," was his huffed and indignant response. "You're a reporter; I expect you to maintain certain standards in your investigating, especially in reference to me."

Roxanne Ritchi, the star reporter for the Channel 8 news team bristled visibly and shook her head half in disgust, and also to whip that hair out of her face again, and Megamind barely contained the strangled growl that sounded in his throat. Every damn news broadcast that Megamind had watched with the cropped-haired brunette journalist, and trust him when he said he'd watched them all, she reached up and swiped her fingers expertly across her brow to move the fringe perfectly. And it drove him insane! He had no idea why. On all accounts, it should bother her more than it bothered him, as it must tickle and itch the delicate freckled skin of her forehead. Just thinking about it almost made him itch himself. And yet, every three minutes, she was reaching up to fix her hair on TV like clockwork. And every time, he'd twitch and glare at the television, growing increasingly distracted from what she was reporting on to merely waiting and waiting for the inevitable bang-brush that he knew was yet to come as those thin, shimmery strands made a slow journey out of their proper order and down her brow. He could barely concentrate! And she was the broadcaster that normally covered his battles with Metro Man. If he was so distracted by this, then imagine all the other ignorant masses that might be too focussed on her silly hair to listen about his evil schemes and learn to fear him! And if it was infuriating to watch it on TV, it was six times more so in person. SIX TIMES! And while captive? He wasn't sure which was worse; her normal habit of using her hand to adjust her short hair, or this new blowing technique she was employing now while he held her hostage.

Megamind, being as amazingly handsome as he felt he was, had no such hair to have to keep adjusting on his blue skinned scalp. His vast, nearly bulbous (but still handsome!) head was perfectly clear of this annoying hair that humans were afflicted with. It also housed his magnificent brain which made him capable of devising all his ingenious plans for domination of Metrocity; all which hinged on destroying the city's sworn protector and hero, Metro Man. Metro Man had been the thorn in his side, the ying to his yang, the bane of his existence since they were infants. Travelling through space to escape the destruction of their neighbouring planets, the two had coincidentally landed in the same city on Terra Firma: Metro City. Imbued with super strength, invulnerability, super speed, flight, laser and x-ray vision, Metro Man was the classic hero, beloved by all even at an early age. And Megamind, with his superior intelligence, inventing skills, and an uncanny ability to persevere in the face of challenges both physical and mental, had struggled to find his place in the world and had finally found it as super evil-villain and the dark side to Metro Man's light. His sworn duty was to destroy Metro Man, his enemy, and take over the entire city. Which is where Roxanne came in.

"Now, Miss Ritchi," he grinned his most evil grin, his voice booming out in its normal, boisterous fashion. He made a quick running dash and hopped into his menacing Evil Overlord chair, his momentum bringing it swinging back around so when he came back into view, he had one leg crossed over the other, fingers steepled to rest his index fingers against his dark goatee. He fixed her with a terrifying glare over his finger tips. "It doesn't matter how you look, because you're just the lowly hostage. Once Metro Man hears of your capture, he will come racing to your rescue. And then he will fall prey to my evil plan!" he cried, finishing it off with his best maniacal laughter, one arm sweeping his cape dramatically as he stood up in one rushing movement. The sound of his laugh echoed loudly in the cavernous expanse of the warehouse around them, dimly lit by the humming and blinking lights of control panels, monitors, tubes and the bare bulb hanging over the hostage. Classic ambience for an evil lair. Really sets the mood. Mood and presentation were everything, he'd always said. He was very astute about getting just the right feeling in the air for his diabolical plans, otherwise he'd just look like an amateur! It was all in the details. And this would be one of his finest days yet, sure to give him the upper hand against Metro Man, and strike fear into the heart of Miss Ritchi, his prisoner. He glared down at her to check her reaction to the whole scenario.

They stared at one another for a long moment that seemed to vibrate with tension. Her eyes were a steely blue that narrowed challengingly and then she took a slow and deep breath in. Perhaps to scream in fright? Ha! All his preparation had paid off! A smile of wicked glee began to form across his face, eyes wide and expectant.

She then purposefully pursed her lips, and angled a sharp exhale of air up to send her bangs fluttering.

"GRAH! I swear, if you do that one more time..!" he bellowed, stomping his black leather boot as red flushed his face, turning his skin a hue of lavender.

"Now sir! Temper!" a figure chided soothingly, lumbering out of the shadows cast by the bright light swaying from the center of the ceiling. Megamind cast a scathing glare to the large robot, who folded its gorilla inspired metal hands together in front of itself, the coarse dark fur that completed the gorilla like resemblance shifting along his shoulders. The frilled aquatic fish-like creature controlling the robotic body tilted itself with a pleasant expression on its face within the larger water filled glass dome atop its shoulders. The fish resembled a piranha, all except for the slightly iridescent tentacles and spikes lining his head, an electrical node piercing the top of his skull that aided in his ability to control his lumbering mechanical suit. The fish-robot, named Minion, just smiled his good natured, sharp toothed smile from within his tank, ignoring the angry look he was getting for his interruption.

"We don't want you getting too overexcited before Metro Man arrives," he sing-songed happily back to Megamind, busying himself like a fussing housewife who was also a mechanical gorilla with a fish for a head by tip-toeing over to their hostage, tilting this way and that to inspect her. Megamind let out a calming little sigh as if to clear his head after his temporary annoyance with his Minion, but the creature made a good point. The atmosphere may be perfect for an evil plan, but if he was distracted in anyway, then the whole thing could unravel like... like... something that unravels very easily. And that would be bad. Not the good kind of bad, because it was quite good to be bad, but the bad sort of bad that was bad for being bad.

"You are correct, as always Minion," Megamind claimed loudly, separating the last word into two emphatic syllables, with a particular stress on the final '-yon' sound. Seemed so much more devious that way. "You are always a voice of reason! I shouldn't let myself get so DISTRACTED by insignificant hostages when I have much more import-," he went on, turning to glare at the offending woman, but then stopping short upon seeing Minion cautiously raising a hand and moving her bangs to the side himself, making her smile in an amused sort of way. Megamind cleared his throat loudly while barely containing his rage, causing the fish to swivel in his tank and give a start at the twitching eyed, infuriated stare Megamind was sending him, and then he hurriedly shuffled away from Roxanne.

"Sorry, sir..." the fish muttered, having the decency to look chagrined.

"Oh just give it up, Megamind," Roxanne interjected, straining forward in the confines of her seat. "Metro Man will show up any minute now, and no matter what evil plan you have, he will defeat you!" she said with a satisfied smile and great conviction.

"Is that so, Miss Ritchi? Well! We will have to see about that!" Megamind cackled derisively, tilting his head back, framed by the high swooping collar of leather and spikes that completed his black and midnight blue cape around his thin shoulders.

"Behold!" he cried, triumphantly, slamming his hand down on a large button on the main console which caused a rumbling sound in the distance of the warehouse to echo around them. The rumble turned to a chorus of electronic, tin sounding squawks and clangs. From the rafters, a swarm of mechanical floating creatures descended around them, causing the hostage to gasp and recoil in her chair in genuine shock and fear. Success! The robots snapped gnashing metal jaws, swivelling red optic eyes around on stalks affixed near their clear domed backs edged with a ragged spiked fin, where currents of vivid blue and white, or red energy crackled and sparked from within. In their mass numbers it was hard to discern one from another, turning the swarm of hovering robots that writhed and moved in one mass of undulating fury. Their movement caused the hanging bulb to swing wildly and shadows flashed menacingly across the room. Again, it was all in the details...

"Prepare to witness the wrath of my Brain-Bots! I will release these, my most diabolical and terrifying invention yet, against Metro Man, and he will fall before my eeeevil genius, once and for all!" he cried, arms spread wide as the bots, with their long trailing steel pincers snapped and chattered around him with a constant _Bowg Bowg Bowg_ like drone. It filled the expanse of the secret evil lair with echos of sound, which only served in making them all the more horrifying and spectacularly evil. Oh, this was turning out to be such a perfectly executed day! Nothing could deflate his feelings of confidence and superiority.

He chanced a look down at her again, to see her reaction to this no doubt terrifying revelation of his latest creation (one which he was quite proud of, if he said so himself). She indeed looked more shocked and a bit frightened in comparison to the few others times he'd been kidnapping her. His small chest swelled with a sense of pride that he had silenced her normally quick tongue and sharp comments. She was struggling against her bonds as some of the Brain-Bots snapped their claws toward her menacingly, and she tossed her head to the side as if to shield herself. And a single strand of her choppy bands slipped down across her brow to stand in sharp contrast against her pale skin.

Megamind fixed his unwavering gaze on that piece of hair, feeling a muscle pulse under his left eye while a shudder ran through him. On her forehead. Itchy. It must be so itchy! Drifting closer to her eye as she looked back up to glare at him. Her mouth was opening and she was saying things; probably cutting remarks about how evil he was, and how he'd never get away with it. He could hardly concentrate on her voice, he was so focussed on that damn hair. She was going to blow on it. Any second now. She'd purse those thin little lips and her chest would swell with the intake of air, and she'd squint and scrunch up her nose as she blew out. She'd do it any second now. Any second now! The suspense practically drove him mad! All he could do was stare. Stare and wait. Oh the ANTICIPATION!

"Sir...? Sir? SIR!" Minion was saying insistently, and Megamind whipped around, eyes crazed.

"WHAT?"

"It's Metro Man!" the large cyborg stammered, pointing at the monitor which showed the white and gold clad hero of Metro City soaring through the sky toward them at lightning speed, mere seconds before he crashed through the ceiling above and rained debris down upon them. Megamind paled visibly. After the initial shock, he reacted instinctively and gave a scream of shock and fear, practically leaping in the air as Metro Man slowly floated down to touch his boot, rimmed with tassels, on the ground. His hair, perfectly coifed, with just a touch of grey at his temple, barely moved an inch as the hero turned steely eyes on Megamind, suddenly pointing one gloved hand at the alien while striking a valiant pose.

"Megamind!" he shouted, his voice booming in the large space and commanding attention. Megamind gave a squeak, still not quite over the shock, turning to the side while lifting one leg defensively, his arms up in front of his face. "I have found you! Prepare to be defeated!" the hero called out, like a well rehearsed actor.

Megamind tried to get into the spirit, despite the abruptness of the whole situation. He dropped out of his _'OMG was that a spider?'_ like posture by straightening his spine and mimicking the hero's pose, pointing back at him with a flash of his cape for effect.

"No! It is YOU who shall be defeated! Brain-Bots! Attack!" Not his best retort, but sufficient.

Sadly, no amount of quick recovery and dramatic flair could salvage the day. With barely ten seconds to scramble into position, Megamind was ill-prepared for this particular encounter with the burly do-gooder, and suffered one of his more embarrassing defeats. Even with his Brain-Bots, Megamind felt like a runner who had started the race already winded, and several yards behind the other contestants. He reflected on this less than an hour later as he was led back into the jail-cell he knew so well, shackled and tallying up yet another sentence to his already lengthy stay in the prison system (a pittance in comparison, since he hadn't even done any real evil doing aside from kidnap the young woman, but the humans were stern about keeping their records up to date, despite the inevitability that he would never fully complete his sentences). He had been so confident about his Brain-Bots! And everything had been going so well too! But... because of little Miss Ritchi, he'd been so distracted and frazzled, he'd hardly been able to focus on the battle at hand and Metro Man had been fairly capable of mopping the floor with him. He massaged the aching side of his large head once the guards had shoved him roughly into his home-away-from-home cell, wincing while he pondered over what he could change in the future to ensure his success.

First of all, he had to work on his designs for the Brain-Bots, because they had obviously been a bit of a failure against Metro Man. A shiver went through him as he recalled the way the dark haired man had incinerated almost half of them with one fell-swoop of his laser beam eyes. So he definitely had to go back to the drawing board to upgrade their defensive and offensive capabilities. He'd also have to escape from jail, which was easy enough. Minion had plenty of backup plans for busting him out of his solitary confinement, and would come soon to free his master. But most annoyingly, there was one large question mark in his plans for dominating Metrocity. And that was Miss Ritchi.

Metro Man came running anytime that Megamind did anything devious. Blowing up buildings, unleashing killer robots on the city, highjacking nuclear explosives, even petty robberies just to fund his rather expensive operating costs for creating such schemes and running the lair. But when Megamind had seized the nosy reporter during a battle some weeks before, that was quickly becoming a little too one-sided for his tastes, Metro Man had stopped dead in his tracks. Fist raised to deliver another crushing blow to the blue evil genius, he'd had to pull up short when Megamind used the woman, who had been there doing her silly little job of reporting the superhero's good deeds, as a human shield. And this had been an epiphany for Megamind. A hostage! Perfect! Metro Man wouldn't strike a citizen of Metrocity, and therefore Megamind could use his weakness for protecting others against him! And how convenient that Miss Roxanne Ritchi was always under foot with her little microphone and camera. And what had started out as a matter of convenience, with her always being around, had quickly become his modus operandi in terms of schemes, as he'd already done it fourteen times since that faithful day. Kidnap the girl, hold her hostage, and try to defeat Metro Man with the constant threat of harming Roxanne as both bait and back up plan. And with the tel-ee-vision always seeming to point to Metro Man and Roxanne being involved in some romantic fashion, Megamind was confident that Roxanne was the best hostage he could find, as it held the added bonus of stealing something Metro Man cared about.

Plus, she was getting used to the kidnappings now, so she struggled much less, which Minion found relieving whenever he had to carry her into position after knocking her unconscious. He never had a stomach for the screams of terrified citizenry.

But now, perhaps Roxanne was becoming more of a hindrance than a help. Today she had succeeded in distracting him enough to foil his attempts to destroy Metro Man. He was able to reflect on all of this silently in his swivelling chair, perched in the direct center of the circular solitary confinement room he called home, at least until Minion came to break him out. The walls, still painted since his youth, showed prancing kittens playing with yarn, and adorable blue birds flitting among the clouds, reminding him that Happy Thoughts Make Happy People. Fingers steepled before him, leg carefully crossed over his opposite knee dressed in the garish orange of the prisoner uniform, he mused and mulled over his problem while gazing up at the monitor attached to the ceiling, the local news channel displaying the predicted weather for the next week. He hadn't tried to cause a tornado or typhoon in a while... perhaps that could be his next plan. But how to incorporate Roxanne? Perhaps tie her to the top of Metro Tower to experience the full force of the natural disaster? Bah! Why was he trying to incorporate her into another plan? Wasn't he trying to find a way to stop her from messing things up? Maybe he should just give up on kidnapping her all the time... That didn't seem like a very good option though, for some reason.

Somewhat abruptly, she appeared on the screen as if conjured from his imagination.

"This is Roxanne Ritchi reporting live from City Hall, as we take a look back on today's events as Metro Man foils yet another of Megamind's terrible plans for destroying our fair city," she said into her microphone, all business and endearingly dramatic. He felt a small grin tilt on his lips. He had to admire her showmanship. Her performance was both informative as well as entertaining, and he was a sucker for a good bit of presentation. But he wrinkled his brow at the use of the words 'terrible plans'. Had she meant his plans were terribly frightening and wicked? Or just terrible, as in doomed to fail? Knowing her, the latter. His smile faded and was replaced with a glare.

She continued to outline the events of the day, her stern visage taken off screen for a moment to show real action footage of her, earlier that day, making a report to her cameraman before a flash of light and dark smoke sprouted to life in the background. Oh he did enjoy watching things like this! He secretly struck at times when he knew she was being filmed, just so he could see how awesome his capture had appeared. The tape continued to roll, Roxanne's current live report audio replacing the tape's, so he couldn't tell what she had been reporting on when he had kidnapped her. But the live feed was now her, describing her own capture from earlier that afternoon, as she had turned around mid-sentence to view the smoke with wide eyes, only to abruptly look up with a stagger of shock as a metal cylinder had suddenly plummeted down around her, impacting hard into the ground so the camera shook and toppled over, the very ground heaving and thick planks of concrete breaking around the impact zone. The image scrambled and wavered until it finally was able to track back onto the target of Roxanne, now within the tube like prison as it rose into the air, suspended by his latest flying vehicle with him at the helm, laughing triumphantly and with his best cape flying in the wind against the dark clouds. He definitely had looked magnificent. Perhaps one of his best performances yet! The tape cut back to current time Roxanne.

"Shortly after my capture, Metro Man defeated Megamind in yet another feat of strength and prowess, easily defeating the evil mastermind's legion of robots. Just another day as Metro City's sworn protector and saviour," she grinned into the camera.

Megamind flapped his hand open and closed to mimic a mouth, sticking his tongue out in some disgust.

"They weren't just robots, they were Brain-Bots," he corrected her sternly from his prison where no one could hear him. She was starting to slack in her journalist integrity. First the tying up and bag incident, and now this oversight in information. If she didn't watch it, he was going to have to remind her she had a duty to report the REAL facts.

All things considered, he felt testy, especially with the way she was grinning, almost as if she knew he'd be watching and was rubbing the defeat in his face. Well, there was always another day. And he'd continue to kidnap her just to spite her. He sneered at her image wickedly, as if she might somehow be in the room and might experience the fear he wanted her to have of him. But, she wasn't in the room, and he was just watching her in a new broadcast, so the sneer served no real purpose. It only made him glare at her picture with great intensity, eyes narrowed and brows drawn together. But slowly, his face relaxed to a more entranced expression, his vision focussing not on the whole of her visage, but on a singular part. A piece of hair. Drifting down, down and down, threatening to breach that line of her eyebrow where it would become enough of an inconvenience to trigger her human tick. He felt like he couldn't even look away for a second, and he chewed his lower lip while a dramatic frown stole across his face. Every time she talked, or moved, or the muscles under her skin shifted, it went a little further. Down it went, pausing just briefly atop one of her well sculpted brows before a single ounce of breeze took it all the way. He twitched.

"This is Roxanne Ritchi, reporting for KMCP, Channel 8," she then concluded, and reached up to flick her bangs to the side.

Megamind practically shattered the remote control in his hand, making a guttural noise of rage and annoyance that caused the guard posted at his door to curse loudly at the sudden outburst, banging on the window as a warning. Megamind responded with a cold glare over his shoulder.

This was definitely a problem. He had to address this issue of Roxanne Ritchi, and the distraction she caused him. He decided then that it wasn't a human tick. It was just her. She set him on edge in such a way, that even an innocuous movement like touching her hair sent him into theatrics. He would have to find a way to fix this issue, and fast. He'd have to keep kidnapping her, not just to get to Metro Man, but so he could investigate and analyze her more thoroughly, like a rare specimen under a microscope. He had to find a way to negate the effect she had on him. Her and that stupid piece of hair.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes: **Here is the second chapter, where I rehash the movie endlessly... Ugh... After writing so much more of the story, it's a real struggle for me to post these as they are. I've made some adjustments to the layout (splitting up paragraphs), but all in all, it's the same content, and I've progressed so much in my story telling since I wrote these that I look back at these beginning chapters and cringe. It's too canon for my liking, but I suppose it shows the progression of my writing well enough to post them so you can all read the story in its entirety. Just trust me - the story, and my writing, gets better!  
**Disclaimer:** 'Megamind' and all its characters are owned by _Dreamworks. _I own nothing.

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**Falling Before Her Eyes**

_Chapter 2_

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Today was different.

It had seemed like any other day from the outside. Wake up, escape from jail, make a death ray, kidnap the girl, battle the good guy, head back to jail. That's how it always went. That was how the game was played. That was how his life progressed. Always striving for his ultimate goal and purpose in life; to rule Metrocity. It always slipped through his fingers like sand, but not today. Today was different. He just hadn't known it.

He'd gone traipsing around, blissfully unaware of his impending destiny, hardly giving the day anymore ceremony than he would have any other. Oh, how he would have changed things had he known, or even had an inkling. Maybe he would have savoured the little moments more, tried to remember all the details as clearly as he could to treasure for the rest of his life. But how could he have known what destiny had in store for him? One never knows until destiny shows its hand. And if Megamind knew much about Poker, he would have likened destiny to dropping a Royal Flush on the table today. But he didn't know Poker, and he just assumed someone was instructing him to prod a female with a stick when it had once been brought to his attention.

He had acted like today was nothing special, as Minion delivered the Disguise Generator Watch to the prison. Megamind had just taken it as another job well done, and another well-thought out escape plan. He'd danced out the door, cleverly disguised at as the moustachioed Warden, filled with his regular level of energy. As he exited the high-security prison with a cocky salute to a guard, he expectantly looked down the road to the sound of a throaty car engine roaring up before him. But only the sound came, as he stared forward across an empty field, no vehicle in sight.

Suddenly, a window seemed to slide down out of nowhere, revealing Minion's smiling face, leaning back languidly in a black interior unseen from the outside world.

Megamind gave a joyful laugh and leapt into the invisible car with his sidekick, and cackled his entire way back to the evil lair. Being fresh from an escape always gave him such motivation for another big plan, and today was an important day! It was the dedication and grand opening of the Metro Man Museum. Was there ever a better time to hatch an evil scheme than that? He would have such an audience! And Minion had everything so well set up, exactly as planned. Roxanne Ritchi slumbered peacefully in the back seat of the vintage but highly customized 1951 Hudson Hornet sedan that drove invisibly through the streets. She was bound as always, knocked out cold thanks to his spray can invention of knock out gas.

And so, off they drove to the lair, up the elevator they went to the top level of the warehouse, down went Roxanne into her seat, off came the bag hiding her face, and out came her snippy replies and retorts. Ahh, he did enjoy some witty banter! He wasn't sure which he enjoyed more, the verbal sparring matches he had with Roxanne, or with Metro Man. Alright, that was a lie. He did know which one he preferred.

Fighting with Metro Man was great and all, but he never felt that zing of delight that he experienced with Roxanne, enjoying her flushed face and tussled hair whenever that kidnapping bag was torn from her face. He didn't like to admit it, but _goodness_, he looked forward to kidnapping her every time. He just never could resist kidnapping the beautiful damsel. Besides, he had an image to uphold now, so ingrained in his character this sort of behaviour was. And he just plain enjoyed it. He held some hope that she enjoyed it a little too, if her willingness to challenge him mentally and verbally was any indication.

But today was different.

They shared their back and forth barbs, but she was nowhere near as accommodating as normal. He had to struggle just to get anything more than a dead-pan reaction from her, trying to bring back that old fear she was once had of him, or to get her to play along like always. But there was no fear, just a haughty smile, and unamused eyes. She wasn't humouring him today at all.

He was even able to swing his rolling chair around her, mere inches from her face with slow calculated words. Still no fear, even when his breath ruffled the fringe of hair around her delicate ear.

Oh her hair, always a point of contention...

She still touched its whispering edges on camera every time he watched her broadcasts. She still tilted her head and gazed at him with a sultry smirk, those bangs shadowing her eyes and making him itch to move them out of the way. And he still waited with bated breath for her to make that cute little expression she had when she blew the hair out of her face while bound in the chair. Some things never changed.

He whispered his little nickname for her into her ear, and although she gave a half gasping laugh at his breathy "_Temptress"_, she plowed forward without a bit of fear, without even acknowledging the flirtatious comment. Normally she'd pull a face at him, seem disgusted, or snap back at him with fire in those cool eyes. She was always quick to put him in his place. But nothing today. No reaction. He'd outright flirted with her! Invaded her personal space! Inhaled her scent! But nothing! No fear.

She and Metro Man were perhaps the only citizens who didn't quake in fear from his awful power, and felt comfortable to talk to him in such a way. He took it as a challenge, but still, she was being a little more blatant today, refusing to play along like normal. Disappointed, and a bit offended by her not holding up her end of the act, he resorted to flashing every weapon he had at his disposal to her, wildly flailing his arms. Nothing. No reaction!

Garish. Predictable. Juvenile. _Cliché_, she spat back, and he'd felt so deflated, he wanted to just sink into the floor. Today was supposed to be a good day, but here he was, scrambling just to find something, anything to impress her.

Exhaustion took over, fuelled by a growing sense of inadequacy, and he flopped lamely across the control panel. But she wouldn't quit. Now she was just mad. Kicking him while he was down, so to speak. Outright pointing out his flaws and faults and the hopelessness of his success. He leapt up with renewed energy born from degradation, and he lifted his chin in the worst display of child-like stubbornness.

"Let-let's just stop wasting time and call your _boyfriend_ in tights!" he'd snapped in frustration, cringing inwardly at the pathetic hitch he heard in his own voice. He turned quickly at this point to avoid her seeing his face, and had continued on with his plan, with just a mild interruption from a pesky Brain-Bot. Still a lot of kinks to work out with those...

Oh, how he wished she's react like in the old days. Like when he'd first invented the Brain-Bots! That shock, the struggle, the blush of fear on her cheeks! Oh how it exhilarated him, and gave him even more energy than he already had. Well, Fine! If she didn't want to carry things out like a professional, then he'd just move on to someone who could fulfill their role in this whole super hero-villain routine.

His plan soon came to fruition, and he was able to banter with Metro Man in a very epic way, which brightened his mood substantially! Smoke, lights, giant projections of himself, the whole bit! Fantastic display, really. And Roxanne, well, she played her role quite well for all of her earlier resistance.

The decoy observatory worked perfectly, and Metro Man flew to the real one a short distance away, blissfully unaware that Megamind had specifically built the fake dome-like room just to trick Roxanne into telling the hero the wrong location!

How do you like that, little Miss Won't Play Along? Don't like it when someone turns your own investigating skills against you, huh?

Metro Man was captured, and seconds away from being blown to smithereens by the powerful Death Ray orbiting Earth that was aimed at the observatory, when... Minion happened. Who knew Death Rays needed to be warmed up?

What followed was a lengthy argument between himself and Minion, with Roxanne inserting snarky remarks the whole way, all of which was broadcast for the entire city to see, of course. Embarrassment flooded his mental capacities. So disgruntled by yet another setback, he decided to give up for the day; a rare occurrence, but he knew when to cut his losses especially since Metro Man would just break out any second now. Lost the battle, win the war and all that.

Except... It wasn't over.

What occurred next continued to play in Megamind's... mind... over and over again for the rest of the day. It all happened so fast, he could barely begin to grasp what was going on. Metro Man's weakness was Copper? He recalled the soft voice of a countdown in the background while he struggled to understand why Metro Man was unable to escape the confines of the observatory walls. He remembered Minion's insistent voice, rising in panic behind him, trying to get his attention. To warn him about something. But Megamind was so entranced by the image of Metro Man laying on the ground of the abandoned space-viewing building that he could barely look away. And then, an explosion.

Moments later, Metro Man's charred remains flew from the brilliant cacophony of fire, laser, and debris to lay atop of him in a heap. Metro Man. He had killed him.

And now, he stood before a crowd outside of City Hall. HIS City Hall. They were officially relinquishing control of the city into his capable hands, with Metro Man's death still hanging heavy like a cloud of mist over the city. But Megamind was rejoicing and revelling in it; so much so that he put his boundless energy into dancing up the steps of the large government building, cackling with hardly concealed glee.

"First off, what a turn out! How wild is this, huh? All I did was eliminate the most powerful man in the universe!" he laughed emphatically into a microphone, his grin so large it hardly felt contained on his cheeks. White faces of fear and confusion stared back at him, many holding devices for recording up in the air, all trained on him.

Not being one to be shy around a camera, Megamind hardly gave them a second thought, except maybe to marvel in the fact that it was now HIM getting the attention, instead of Metro Man. Normally the cameras and microphones were in the hero's face, not Megamind's. Although Megamind was normally there, he was often being held up by his cape in defeat, so his 5'5" blue frame dangled and thrashed in the air just off screen before being hauled off to prison. Because of this, he never was interviewed by the local news stations, never got to see his face on the evening news unless it was a mug-shot, and was never asked the thrilling questions of the day like what new plan he was going to develop next.

He'd always wanted that; a studio interview preferably. Sitting in a comfortable chair, in his most extravagant of capes while Roxanne Ritchi leaned in eagerly, seated in the chair opposite; legs crossed so her skirt hitched up an inch on her curved thighs, a look of total interest and rapt curiosity was stealing across her features. She'd ask him probing questions about his amazing intellect, his well-thought out and magnificent plans, about his life, about him. And he'd laugh charismatically, answer them all with witty humour and smoldering good looks, and she'd end the interview, breathlessly exclaiming into the camera how honoured she'd been to have an audience with such a fantastically amazing and devilishly good looking man.

And it would be a three part – no, a FOUR part interview, so he'd keep coming back, and she'd keep having questions, and they'd talk for hours, and he'd share all his deepest thoughts and dreams, and maybe off camera, they'd go out to lunch to discuss further interviews, and over coffee she'd share her secrets and desires too. You know, in that rushed way as if she felt like she couldn't keep them secret anymore, or in that sort of off-the-cuff social banter way, and she'd seem chagrined about it, brushing her gorgeous hair back from her eyes to stare down in embarrassment. And he'd reach across the table, assuring her it was alright to speak, and he wanted to know more.

Wait, no, that didn't sound very villainous.

He was supposed to be getting the interview, not her! This whole scenario was so that he could get the limelight for once! Although, given the circumstances, he doubted the interview would be a pleasant one. Evil Overlord's of Metrocity rarely had provocative and intellectual exposés done about them. He just...

Well, he did wonder what it would be like to be on the other side of her microphone for once, instead of a backdrop in handcuffs behind Metro Man.

"Are there any questions? Go on! Yes, you in the back!" he invited boldly into the microphone, motioning to the single hand raised in the air behind a crowd of people. The individual wormed their way forward and broke through the swarm of reporters.

He smiled despite himself as Roxanne Ritchi appeared from his thoughts before him, pushing through the crowd. He had to blink though, at her appearance, his smile fading to a drawn look of half concern, half confusion.

Although for him it seemed already light-years away in time, it suddenly hit him that today had still just been _today_. And just today, he had defeated Metro Man in a blazing explosion of glory. An explosion so powerful, that it had torn across the shoreline of the bordering lake and blasted waves of heat, debris and ash clear into the fake observatory they had been viewing the explosion from.

It seems Minion had not fully calculated the blast-radius of the solar-powered Death Ray, and so they'd all been blown back by multiple after-bursts that left his face smudged with streaks of black and promptly sent him flying with the wind ripped from his lungs. And Roxanne had been right beside him, tied to a chair. That had all occurred just this morning, but now the sky was dark with the twinkling stars of twilight peering down on them. At least a full six hours had passed. And it seems that since that time, the young buxom reporter had not changed, or cleaned herself. This was very telling.

Soot stained her square like face, all but clouding the galaxy of freckles lining her cheeks. Her dress, an off the shoulder red and black number that emphasized that tight cinching of her waist, looked like it hadn't seen a dry-cleaner in years. The once brilliant red looked a rusty brown now, the elasticity of the fabric seeming lumpy and clinging in all the wrong ways to her wide hips. The dress was torn, burns marred its surface, and one shoulder didn't quite seem like it wanted to stay up anymore.

Her normally immaculate makeup looked smudged, lipstick just about chewed off, clear silver-blue eyes now dull and foggy, red rimmed and the tiniest bit swollen. She hardly looked the well-put together image of a fashionable reporter! And her hair!

Megamind had to gape openly at the interesting transformation that had occurred to those irrepressible bangs, as they were blown straight back from her face, standing on end in an electrifying way. The strands were frayed, singed and darkened from heat, little flyways curling in on themselves from damage. It gave her an extra few inches of height, and Megamind assumed she was now officially taller than him with this new addition as she'd always bordered on just barely having an edge on him in stature.

Megamind had never seen her like this. Dishevelled, sure. Put a bag over anyone's head for long enough, and they'd come out looking a little frazzled. But this was a totally new side of her. Even with the kidnapping, the bags, the knock out gas (and that one unfortunate incident with the Forget-Me-Stick, which Megamind insisted was Minion's fault), she would shake her head, gain her composure and hold herself up tall so that no matter how her outfit was wrinkled, her hair was messy, or her lipstick had smudged, she still remained... prett- he meant presentable! Presentable.

But now?

Although the effect of her blown back hair was exciting, it changed her face. The lines that once were softened by the presence of bangs now seemed hard. Her high forehead, which he'd never seen before and somehow made his face feel hot, was lined with not only dirt, but crinkles in her flesh. Worry lines, he'd heard them called on an infomercial for some cream that when slathered on turned a woman's face the consistency of skin stretched taunt over a drum.

Her eyes, normally full of life and rebellion looked so dull, wide, almost pained. Her pouty lips now looked tight and drawn, strained to the point of a frown. All because of her hair!

Great Scott, no wonder she wore it the way she normally did. Otherwise, she'd look downright miserable all the time! Those lines grew deeper on her brow, and she took another step forward as she spoke, her voice catching in her throat.

"I'm sure we'd all like to know what you plan to do with us and this city," she demanded, her normal fire replaced with an angry sort of desperation. Here she was, asking him a question, like a real interview, and suddenly he couldn't make his tongue work. He just kept staring at her hair, her face, and the startling transformation she had taken.

"Good!" he managed at last, shouting out the word as if to snap himself back into reality. "I'm glad you asked that!" he stated, a bit softer now while he fumbled with the microphone that suddenly felt foreign and heavy in his hands.

This wasn't how the interview was supposed to be. He didn't understand.

She needed to fix her hair, then everything would be back to normal. She always was so worried about her hair. Trying to blow it into place, always touching it. Maybe because of its scorched appearance, she wasn't acting like herself. But why hadn't she cleaned up? There'd been time. He'd certainly found the time. Even had the time to choreograph an amazing entrance with a light show, music, and fog! But she couldn't fix her hair, wipe her face, or change?

Minion had knocked her out like normal and deposited her back at her apartment after Metro Man's death. And some hours later, they were here. What had she been doing that whole time in between? You'd think she'd have the decency to make herself presentable for his grand preview as Evil Overlord of Metrocity. She of all people knew how important this was. She'd been there when it had all happened!

Well, yet again, he was the one who would have to pick up the pieces and carry on like a true professional. Grasping his cloak, he began a dramatic dialogue.

"Imagine the most horrible... terrifying... EEEEVIL thing you can possible think of, and multiply it... by SIX!" he shouted, so a hiss of feedback echoed from the speakers.

The stunned silent faces of the media, police officers and ex-mayor stared back at him.

"In the meantime, I want you to carry on with the dreary normal things that normal people do. Let's just have fun with this! Come on! And I will get back to you!" he ended rather lamely, as all of a sudden, for all his grandiose ideas and schemes, he was at a loss for what to do with the city now that it was his. It was like a child who had begged and pleaded for that special bike with turbo thrusters and wings (or whatever normal humans' bikes were like) for Christmas, and when it finally came under the tree, he was so overcome with elation, that he could hardly think about riding it. Just to sit and soak up its glory was overwhelming in and of itself. How was he supposed to already have plans for Metrocity when he was still revelling in the fresh paint job and shiny handlebars of his victory?

Wrapping his cape around himself in what he thought looked rather villainous and evil, he hurriedly scrambled back into the open door of the City Hall behind him. Minion, blinking and staring at his boss, struggled to keep up once Megamind hissed for him to join him. The door was then slammed firmly with a resounding crash, leaving the onlookers outside in a sort of stunned silence. Stunned with fear!

"Oh Minion! How spectacular is this!" he cried, twirling his arms around him in the grand hall of the city government building, trying to forget the aching feeling Roxanne had made in his chest. His cape fluttered and wrapped around him when he stopped, and he had to struggle to disentangle himself from the silky fabric.

"Oh, yes sir. Quite spectacular," the robot responded enthusiastically, turning around in his bowl to gaze up at the high ceilings, tasteful decorations, and bright lights. "It's so much nicer in here than in the Evil Lair, sir."

"I thought you liked the Evil Lair!" Megamind gasped, as if insulted, and then gave a shriek as his cape refused to let him out of its tight cocoon, wrapped around his spindly legs. He struggled even more violently, and blinked as he began to tip slowly forward, a wail escaping his lips that steadily increased in volume and force before he face-planted hard into the floor. Minion cringed at the resounding thud and Megamind's whimper against the cold tiled floor of the front foyer. "Owcht.." he mumbled, nose and lips squished into the ground so he was forced to move his mouth to the side just to speak.

"Oh sir!" Minion gasped, quickly lumbering over to deftly scoop the thin alien up, setting him back on his feet, brushing him off and fixing his cape. Megamind quickly slapped away his hands with a flailing movement, squinting up his face in stern resistance to the babying behaviour. Fixing his own shoulder pads defiantly with his chin stuck up in the air, he tried to ignore the hurt expression on the fish's face.

"Well, of course I like the Evil Lair, sir. It's home! But this is just... different!" Minion tried to explain, fiddling with his large metallic fingers before gesturing to the expanse of white walls, framed paintings in glittering gold frames, and plush red rug that led from the circular main entrance way down to the many adjacent halls.

Although Megamind was resentful that Minion might prefer this opulence to his own comforting Evil Lair, he couldn't really fault the fish. It was quite amazing. The life of a super villain, although glamorous, wasn't exactly one that brought in a salary that could afford creature comforts. Not by legal means at least. Any money he procured was from a less than reputable source. Normally a bank robbery, jewellery heist, intercepting government shipments of weaponry, parts and radioactive power sources; things like that. And with how often Metro Man foiled his plans, not a whole lot of loot ever made it to his pockets.

He resorted to scavenging for parts, power, and living arrangements. His base of operations were run-down, abandoned warehouses, factories, industrial sites. Anything large enough to house his experiments, out of the public eye, and well... free. So it was never very fancy. In fact, it was normally downright disgusting. Dark and dreary, but Megamind felt at home in that kind of environment, so financial backing or not, he'd probably still search out these dilapidated structures.

It was like the jail. Well, the old parts of jail that he had resided in as a child and the majority of his youth, before he was 'upgraded' to solitary confinement. His old cells had been cold, dank and barren, and he'd lain on their hard floor, drawing and scribbling ideas and designs as they flowed through his brain like water out of a tap. Rolling Minion back and forth in his clear bowl, giggling as the alien fish tried to brighten his spirits after a particularly traumatizing day, Megamind had found a spark of hope within a dark, terrifying world.

Those nights, alone by the light of Minion, and his glowing binky (the ultimate power source for most of his creations), Megamind was able to escape from the frightening noises in the cell block, the constant fear of injury and worse from less than accepting inmates, and the never-ending bullying from his childhood 'peers'. And so, he found himself with an affinity for the dark, cold, empty expanses of an industrial warehouse. All high ceilings, metal chains, oil spots and concrete flooring. Like a sanctuary where he could remember and grip onto those nights by Minion-light, where he'd felt for even an hour a day, that he had a friend, and he was going to be alright.

This City Hall had similar high ceilings, and it felt equally as empty as a gaping hangar bay might have, but Minion was right. It was different. Not a bad different, but not a good one either. He could never dream of having the sort of money to afford something of this calibre, but that suited him fine. Still, seeing Minion's wide golden-brown eyes and how he seemed to be turning around and around to soak it all in, Megamind tried to shake the feelings of discomfort and replace them with his normal level of over-the-top exuberance.

"You are correct Minion! It may be no Evil Lair, but it's OURS now!" he cried, thrusting one finger into the air triumphantly, and Minion's smile was broad and pleased. "We must explore the entire building! COME!" he cackled, throwing himself up with great energy to clamber atop the bulking robot's shoulders. Although Minion squawked with some shock at this move, one more flying leap had Megamind grabbing the dangling chandelier above their heads, and in seconds he was swinging upside down from its circular base, his legs hooked over the metal frame, swinging violently. The tiny crystals tinkled and chimed behind him as he flashed his companion a brilliant smile, waving his arms around.

"Look Minion! Isn't this AMAZING? How fun is THIS!" he laughed, before turning at the waist in the most uncomfortable seeming position to stare directly at the shimmering daggers of glass that reflected the light. He pinched one between his fingers, holding it up to his eye experimentally and looked back to Minion again, so his image was a kaleidoscope of fins, metal and blue water.

"I wonder what these do?" he asked excitedly, twisting even more in his awkward upside down position, cape swaying behind his head. "Do you think they're some sort of power source that runs the whole building?"

"I do believe that's a chandelier, sir," Minion added helpfully, walking to stand underneath his ward, tilting his fish body to stare up at him. "It's a light fixture."

"Hmm. A chan-dee-leer?" he mused in return, suddenly grabbing hold of the very bottom of the chandelier and angling it so he could stare directly into the light bulb within. Which promptly blinded him. He shrieked his discomfort, slapped his hands over his eyes and lost his precarious hold on the lighting fixture, his legs straightening in reaction to pain so he quickly plummeted down toward the ground.

"Oh sir!" Minion gasped, extending his arms to catch Megamind. Although this made the alien wince terribly at dropping into very unforgiving metal arms, he still laughed heartily and recovered from his pain within milliseconds, as he'd always done. Pain always seemed temporary for the thin-as-a-rail evil genius. Which came in pretty darn handy when you were getting beaten into submission every week by a super hero. He rebounded as if he'd never been hurt, his bones healing like mere cuts, and his cuts and bruises disappearing within mere hours.

"Good catch my fishy-friend!" he cried, before reaching into the holster attached to his right hip, pulling out his De-gun with a flourish.

Powered by the iridescent child's toy he had come to earth with, the gun glowed a brilliant blue-white, a rotating chamber at its center labelling all the gun's functions; Destroy, Demoralize, Debilitate, Decompress, Dehydrate and a few others. One of his earliest and more 'pretty' inventions, gold tinted swirls and etchings coated the gun's surface, a dramatic almost 1950s inspired art deco fin coming up where the hammer of a standard human gun would be. With a dramatic flick of his wrist, the gun made an array of almost bubbling pings and tones while the center barrel spun madly before another quick twitch on his part had the dial stopping on Destroy.

With a smirk, he aimed the gun upward at the crystal light fixture, pulling the trigger. Light zapped up at the chandelier before it exploded in a blast of smoke, dust, crystal and plaster, leaving nothing but a charred hole in the ceiling in its place.

"There," he said resolutely, remaining in Minion's arms before using the gun to point dramatically toward the large double doors at the far end of the hall that no doubt led to the Mayor's Office. "Now, ONWARD MINION!" he cried, flicking his hand once again and sending a shot of electric energy at the door until it vibrated with sparks and trembling, the doors exploded open on their hinges.

"There he is," Minion sing songed as he carried his master through the gaping doors, swimming back and forth in his bowl. "Mister Evil Overlord!" Megamind cackled out a laugh, jumping out of the robotic arms to stare around the elaborate room with eyes wide enough to devour every detail.

"Wow," he breathed reverently, spinning with arms spread to look back at his friend. "Minion, did you think this day would ever come?" he half whispered, slowly feeling the reality of the moment settling in on him.

"No way, not at all, sir. Never, never in a million-" Minion was laughing, shaking his head and gesturing with his arms until he finally opened his eyes to regard Megamind, who was glaring at him with a stoney, deadly look on his face. Snapping his fish mouth closed, Minion pointed back at the evil genius. "I mean yes, I did!" he corrected staunchly.

Megamind conveniently ignored the infraction, and went back to staring up at the room.

"Look at the intricate mouldings!" he gasped, and Minion followed behind him obediently, exclaiming that he was with great enthusiasm to make up for his previous confession. Megamind ignored the large cyborg to clamber up on top of the heavy mahogany desk, stepping over papers and pens before stepping down seamlessly onto the expensive leather chair seat, his momentum propelling it to roll slowly along the carpet.

"And what's this?" he whispered, raising his hands to take in the entirety of the wall that overlooked the reflection pool, and Metro Man museum in the distance. "It's like one of the giant monitors in the lair. But it seems to only carry one station," he asked quizzically, tilting his head to the side.

"Oh that, sir, is called a window," Minion explained patiently, grasping his hands together as he watched Megamind place one leather gloved hand against the glass pane, marvelling at its floor to ceiling expanse, separated into three distinct windows.

"Window," he intoned, as if to memorize the word.

"All the kids are looking through them," Minion went on amicably.

"Ohhh I've never had a view before!" he giggled excitedly, pressing himself closer to the cool glass while staring at the towering statue of Metro Man, supporting the world in his giant hand and rotating slowly. "Metrocity, Minion. It's all mine! If my parents could see me now," he sighed wistfully.

"Sir I'm sure they're smiling down from Evil Heaven," Minion comforted and Megamind gave a smile and a nod, before turning in the seat to slide back over to the desk, extending a hand toward Minion in prompt. The robot quickly handed him a plaque, lined with silver spike detailing which Megamind quickly placed at the front of the desk. HIS new desk. One quick adjustment to make it perfectly lined up, and he smiled at the _Megamind, Evil Overlord_ name plaque with joy.

"And now that Mister Goody Two Shoes is out of the way, I can have anything I want and there's no one to stop me!" he laughed joyfully and Minion joined in, watching with amusement as Megamind pushed back from the desk once more to spin in the office chair, arms and legs spread out in a star fashion, simply to feel the inertia caused by the spinning.

"So," he said suddenly as he stopped, grabbing the desk firmly in both hands. "How did you think my first press conference went? How did I look? Did I sound menacing?" he inquired of his friend, leaning forward expectantly to hear Minion's feedback. The fish looked contemplative, tapping one metal finger against the glass encasing his body, a hollow _tink tink_ sound following.

"I thought it went quite well sir! Your entrance was disgustingly evil!"

"HAH! Just as I thought it would!" Megamind cried triumphantly, his smile wide and a bit crooked. Then, it faded for but a moment, replaced with a purposefully casual and nonchalant expression. He feigned disinterest, instead gazing at his hands, picking at the leather on their back experimentally.

"And... what did you think of Miss Ritchi?" he ventured, casting a sidelong look at his companion. Again, Minion looked thoughtful, then cautious.

"Weeeeeell, she didn't look herself, sir, to be honest."

"EXACTLY!" Megamind shouted, slamming both hands hard on the desk so Minion jumped. Megamind then winced and gave a squeak, quickly gripping his hands together to stave off the throbbing pain of slapping them so violently on a hard surface.

"I thought she was not herself at all tonight! It was her hair! She didn't even bother to fix her hair Minion! Clearly she does not fear me anymore. We'll have to do something truly devious to her."

"Her... hair... sir?" Minion repeated, his face screwed up in a look that clearly stated he was struggling to keep up. Megamind waved his now painless hand in the air, brushing away the comment.

"Yes yes, her hair! Didn't you see? It was all... THIS!" he tried to explain, gesturing wildly by raising his eyebrows as high as he could, flaring his hands up on either side of his massive cranium, making swishing movements with his fingertips.

"Ok, yes, I did see that sir," Minion muttered, still terribly out of the loop, and Megamind heaved a martyred sigh, slumping back in his chair while frowning expressively. He leaned forward again as if to try and reason with the slow witted fish.

"Her hair was WRONG Minion. It made her different. She should have fixed her hair." How could he be so dense sometimes?

"I... I don't know, sir. I'm not sure it was her hair that was bothering her," the fish said at last, after a terribly long silence where Megamind felt the creature was judging him quite harshly, thinking nasty thoughts in his little tiny brain. He bristled visibly and frowned.

"Well then what else could it have been, Mister Smarty Fish?" he drawled back sarcastically, crossing his arms across his chest.

"Sir. She just saw Metro Man die. She was sad," Minion supplied in a soft, almost pitying voice and Megamind blinked.

"What?"

"Sir," Minion started again, wringing his hands together with a scraping of metal on metal. He stopped and heaved a sigh so that his body floated down in his tank, tilting to one side. "You may not like to hear this, but... Well, all the news seems to say that Metro Man and her were... together."

"Yes yes, they were together a lot. That happens when you're getting saved from a kidnapping. We were ALL together, Minion. What's your point?"

"No, sir, I mean romantically."

"Yes, I know," he managed reluctantly in a soft voice as he quickly caught up to the conversation Minion was trying to have.

"She's sad, because Metro Man is dead, and she liked him. She was grieving sir. Because you killed Metro Man."

Oh. Oh. Yes. It made some sense. She'd been there when it happened. The sound of her traumatized gasp rang in his ears and echoed in his memories, from when Metro Man's skeletal remains had torpedoed into their view. Her changes were not based on some new hairstyle change; it was sadness. Grief. Pain.

The lines on her brow, the tightness around her mouth, the puffy redness of her eyes. The reason she had not cleaned up since the kidnapping was because she was sad due to Metro Man's death.

He felt like there was a punch in his gut, and his throat felt tight and constricted. He didn't regret finally winning against Metro Man; of course not. He just... well, he had somehow thought that he could do that without messing with the dynamic himself and Roxanne had together. Somehow, he'd overlooked that key aspect of their interactions; that they always centered around Metro Man.

"Yes, yes I suppose that would be true," he managed finally, his tongue feeling thick and cumbersome in his mouth.

"But, I'm sure she'll get over it quickly, sir!" Minion added hastily, plastering on a convincing smile, which Megamind for some reason knew wasn't genuine, but he didn't react to it and simply nodded with a dry grin.

"Yes, she was always good at bouncing back."

"Exactly, sir! That's the spirit! Remember the time with the giant robotic monkeys?"

"AH! What a great day that was! They were much messier than previously anticipated though..."

"Unfortunately. Miss Ritchi did suffer a bit that day. I suppose we based them too closely off of real primates. They do tend to throw their own po-"

"EW! Enough Minion... OH! Remember that time we attempted to blow up the marina?"

"Ah yes sir, a fine plan! Miss Ritchi wasn't too happy about the whole squid thing though."

"Hmm yes, she was most distracted that day."

"Oh, how about the time we took her to the top of Metro Tower, sir? Remember that?"

"Oh my yes, how could I forget Minion? A valuable lesson was learned that day. Always check the weather forecast. She was most agitated by the whole lightning thing. But her hair had looked FANTASTIC afterward!"

"Yes, I guess so, if you say so sir..." Minion offered unsurely, not longer seeming as interested in their reminiscing. "The point, sir, is that despite everything that's happened, she's always bounced back. Even from the really bad stuff. Remember when you hit her with the Forget-Me-Stick, that one time? She was right as rain after just a couple days, and she had been REALLY mad when she woke up!" Minion replied brightly, and Megamind choked and gasped.

"That was YOUR fault! If you'd just remembered the spray, I wouldn't have had to do that!" he complained sourly, but his spirits were significantly lifted and he beamed at his life-long friend. "You're right Minion. Roxanne will be good as new in no time! She'll fix her hair, clean up, and be ready for a good old fashioned kidnapping in no time! And everything will be wonderful again!"

Minion smiled broadly, but his eyes darted to the side for a quick second, his smile somewhat tense.

"Yes sir. Whatever you say."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes: **Chapter Number 3, where there are explosions, Disco Alligators, and sexy hair. Thanks to everyone for their reviews and corrections for the last few chapters. Much appreciated! Keep it up and let me know your thoughts!  
**Disclaimer:** 'Megamind' and all its characters are owned by _Dreamworks. _I own nothing.

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**Falling Before Her Eyes**

_Chapter 3_

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This had become such a terrible idea, but he was too far into it now to back out. Sometimes that happened.

He'd get over-zealous. Over excited. One thing would lead to another, and before he knew it, things were snowballing and spiralling out of control. But some little part of his brain wouldn't let him stop. Minion had once called it Pride. Hubris. It was a bit fitting. He was very proud of himself. But, that led to trouble, like it had right now. Which was why he was in the conundrum he was in. Not that it was ALL bad... but he had that gnawing sense that the worst was yet to come and he'd regret things soon.

But he was getting ahead of himself already. Best to start from the beginning.

Or a quarter way through, really. Or maybe it was a 1/5th of the way? That seemed a bit better in terms of representation. Although it was hard to tell where the end and the beginning were, since things blended so much and fed off of past and future events. Funny how that worked. Maybe if he story-boarded it, and used the hundreds of hanging pieces of yarn in the lab to get a visual of the whole timeline. That might help...

GETTING OFF TRACK! Alright. It began simply enough.

Metro Man was dead. Megamind was Evil Overlord. And suddenly, he had nothing to be evil about.

The city was his, but it felt like a ghost town. Citizens hid in their homes in fear. Businesses were forced to close down. His evil rampaging had destroyed much of the downtown core into a mash of broken vehicles, graffiti, and games he and Minion had played that once seemed fun. Car Darts had been pretty entertaining, until the bus. So had repainting much of the city in his signature colours.

But now? He knew they weren't really any fun. It had all been just an attempt to fill the maddening space of time that now stretched before him, since he wasn't making up plans to escape jail because no one was carting him off there. He wasn't constructing robots, or death rays, or any new invention to use against Metro Man because he'd already destroyed him. He wasn't trying to take over the city, because it was already his. He had nothing to do. No one to fight. No challenge to rise up against. He was purposeless.

This idea came out of his thoughts like a gunshot. It had hit him with great speed when he'd sat alone in the darkness of the City Hall where he had taken up residence. Staring at the wide screen TV before him, he was sitting mere inches from it so the glow of the HD graphics shone on his blue face eerily.

It was Roxanne. She was standing in the cold night, gripping her microphone and speaking into the camera.

She'd fixed her hair, he noted with some dry amusement. She'd fixed it the very next day after Metro Man's death, and she'd continued to report. At first, with anger. Hostility. He could feel the waves of her rage flowing through the TV set while she reported on the growing destruction of the city caused by him. He almost felt happy, seeing her so mad. Almost. It was the old spark he missed in her. The haughtiness. The fire. She looked gorgeous when her pert little nose was wrinkled, her eyes wide and flashing, lips pulled back in what could only be described as a sneer, but still looked so sexy on her lips that the word 'sneer' hardly felt right.

But the anger had drained as the weeks went on. He could see her shift, as if she were deflating. Her shoulders became drooped, like there was an oppressive weight there. Even her hair, oh god her magnificent hair... it was becoming lifeless and dull, the shine gone, limply resting against her forehead and she didn't even bother to move it. Like she were numb and couldn't feel the frisky little strands teasing and taunting her. Or was it him they were teasing and taunting?

He'd chewed on his fingers with anxiety, praying and praying that during a broadcast she'd touch her hair again. Just one little flick. Come on, Roxanne! Just for old time's sake. But no. She never did.

The anticipation of HOPING she'd adjust her hair was more traumatic than it had been when he'd known she'd do it. He would slump in the high backed chair after every broadcast, his energy spent, his mind exhausted, and his chest throbbing with some sort of pain he couldn't identify. No hair touch. Not even a flick of her head. A blow. Nothing.

And that last broadcast he'd watched of hers that had sent everything into the tail spin... well, it had been the worst. He could practically feel the fibres of his heart being pulled apart from each other, leaving his face screwed up in such an expression of agony, he might have looked like he were dying.

"He was always there for us," she was saying as Megamind leaned even closer to the screen, his nose almost vibrating from the electric energy the monitor put out. "Dependable. Perhaps we took him for granted, or maybe we never really know how good we have it until it's gone," she went on, a heaving sigh pulled from her body as she looked down and away from the camera. Her voice kept hitching, her eyes shimmering with some moisture that clung to her eyelashes.

Megamind swallowed, surveying her image with painstaking care, as if to memorize the woman he saw before him.

"We miss you Metro Man."

He cringed.

"I miss you," she whispered tearfully.

He had no air left to breathe, and he felt bile rise in his throat, stinging and making his stomach clench painfully.

"And I have just one question for Megamind."

His eyes opened a fraction wider but he knew he wouldn't like the question, despite the flutter of hopefulness he felt at her addressing him.

"Are you happy now?"

The words were spit out, like a dagger, the accompanying glare into the camera making him feel like he'd been punched, and he flopped back in the chair reflexively, wincing and rubbing a hand slowly over his chest, trying to massage away the burning.

Four words. Are you happy now. Four words that started the events in motion, like the wheels of time.

He wasn't sure if he would have run and tried to stop himself from doing what he did, had he known what events were to follow. It didn't really matter now, anyways. He hadn't exactly perfected time travel as it was, so it was a moot point. All that mattered, was that night, he started a batch of lies that would lead him to a place of no return.

Disgruntled, depressed, wounded... he'd made his way to the towering statue of Metro Man, in some ways to pay his respects to the late hero, in other ways to stamp down his own guilt. Blow it up, was his incoherent late-night thought. Blow up the Museum, and you won't have his stupid face staring at you through the window anymore, reminding you that he was gone and you had nothing left to live for. Nothing left to do. Your existence was null and void, because you had no super hero to be a villain to.

Minion was powered down and sleeping peacefully in his fish-castle. If he hadn't been, no doubt the robot might have tried to talk some sense into his master before all the dynamite got involved. But left to his own devices, Megamind found himself pressing the button on the remote detonator, letting it fall from his fingers from the glass cat-walk on the highest level of the monument. He staid an extra few moments, to express his grief for the loss of battles they would never have. For his guilt. He hadn't meant for it to end this way. To inadvertently destroy them both in one fell swoop. How could he have known the void that Death Ray would cause? And now...

Wait. What was that? A voice?

One quick peek around the bulging biceps of the rotating statue had his blood running cold.

ROXANNE? What was she doing here! Oh oh OH bad thing! Very bad thing! He was genuinely terrified.

What would her reaction be to seeing him now? If her last news cast had been any indication, not very happy. And he could only take so much outright hatred from her in one day.

How had he not made the connection that she was at the Museum during her broadcast, and mere minutes later, he was walking up those steps himself? Stupid!

Slipping and sliding in his evil slippers (Why had he not dressed properly! This was the last time he ever decided to do something evil after 11:00 PM!), he scrambled down the catwalk to the elevator, desperation giving him speed until he slammed headlong into a cart of books that stood in his way. He gave a gasp and stared wide eyed and bewildered at the man holding the other side.

"Well that's a pretty tasteless costume," the man droned in the most disparaging voice Megamind had ever heard, he feared he would become depressed just listening to it.

"Costume?" he stammered dumbly, and then snapped out of it. Roxanne's boots were clipping on the glass floor quickly behind him, following the sound of his voice, and it drove him to desperation. The man, in his turtle neck and glasses was continuing to drawl out snarky comments, but Megamind was hurriedly gripping the watch on his left arm.

One scan with the hologram generator, and the depressing man's image was catalogued. Then, he found his De Gun in the waist band of his pyjamas, flicking the dial with his thumb to dehydrate, and promptly shot the man point blank. A cell phone and a pair of glasses tumbled to the ground, as Megamind leapt to grab the blue glowing cube that had once been the night-time employee. Struggling to grab all the fallen items, hearing Roxanne steadily approaching, he was gasping and heaving for breath with his heart pounding insanely in his ears before he was finally able to make his fingers work long enough to activate the watch.

He stood up in a rush, the turtle neck and blazer outfit of the man covering his body and disguising his blue frame with that of a man with sandy brown hair that flew wildly up, roughly in the same height as his own head. He quickly shoved the glasses onto his face.

Roxanne was behind him, and seemed relieved, gasping out a laughing noise that Megamind tried to ignore. She knew the man he'd just dehydrated, the cube sitting in his inside breast pocket. Bernard. Well, he was in this far, he now had to pretend to be Bernard. But it was difficult, because he didn't have the slightest clue how to BE Bernard, or anyone except for himself for that matter. Even in other disguises, he'd always acted as himself. And she'd surely be able to spot him and his amazing character traits. She'd find out!

Plus the building was about to blow up.

He slammed his hand against the elevator door button more times than necessary, practically punching the thing although he knew it wouldn't make the elevator rise any faster. A little part of him hoped the machinery would respond to urgency though. It opened, and they both rode down together, side by side, in the most awkward moment of his life. Silence. Him sweating and twitching with nervous energy, and her staring coolly out the glass doors as Metro Man's statue passed before them. And then, she'd sighed, staring out the clear panes of the elevator. He chanced a look at her through the reflection, and saw the sadness and pain he'd been seeing through the television all over again. It almost brought him to tears. So much so that when they exited the elevator, she was setting a hand on his shoulder to try and comfort him, saying she hadn't been aware he had... feelings.

It was uncanny, how their conversation could have been one they'd had when he wasn't in disguise. He doubted she'd react any differently if she found the same thing about the real him. But what happened next was the really important part.

A hero can be made.

She'd said it so casually, like it were just another human saying with no real value. A platitude to comfort him during his grief and guilt.

The thought overpowered all others in his mind, and he reeled with the possibilities. Make a hero! EXACTLY!

Every synapse in his mind fired at once and he whooped with glee, doing the first thing his body told him to do. He grabbed her, lifting her easily and spinning her around in a flurry of energy and joy.

He could make a hero to replace Metro Man! It would solve everything! He'd have purpose! The world would be right again!

She was laughing now, her eyes sparkling, her hair falling across her eyes from the quick spin and he still had his hands on her wide hips where he'd gripped her as he settled her back down onto the ground, panting with excitement. He stared at her, his smile huge across his face and she'd smiled back brilliantly. Like the old Roxanne. The Happy Roxanne. But she still wasn't quite right.

He flicked his gaze briefly to the hair that criss-crossed along her brow and an urge suddenly struck him with such fierceness, his fingers almost trembled and gripped harder on her sides.

He was close enough to brush her hair away himself. Maybe that would remind her she should be doing that, like she used to! He felt his hands move of their own accord, as if to finally feel those strands against his fingertips.

"I think we should go!" he instead said loudly, using that raised hand to look at his watch, his smile all but plastered onto his face though he didn't feel like smiling anymore while fear gripped him.

He was insane! He'd almost tried to touch her like that, and the building was about to come down around their ears! He had to make her move, to protect her.

He grabbed her a bit roughly by the shoulder, spun her around so he couldn't see her hair and then grabbed hold of her by the elbow. Dragging her down the stairs, he talked quickly about how nice it was to see her, and he really enjoyed their talk, and they should do it again some time, but it was late now and she'd been reporting so she must be tired and needed to get home and have some rest because Lord knows you needed your full eight hours of sleep like most leading doctors said, and they'd done studies, don't you know, and she must be pretty beat HAHAHA reporting must be really hard, especially now with Megamind and all, but he hoped she had a good night and OH look there's a cab, she should get in it, what, a phone number, why yes he had a cell phone in his pocket and ok, yes, that was the number and now he had hers, but she really should be going, it was so late out, and you never know whose lurking around at this time of night and he'd hate to see her hurt so she REALLY needed to leave right now, DRIVE YOU STUPID CABBY so she'll stop talking Ok BYE!

The yellow taxi drove off down the street FINALLY and he struggled to keep his breathing in check, hands trembling against his sides where he forced them to stay.

He'd almost touched her. Almost reached up and caressed her forehead and that damn, annoying, stupid, cute, adorable, breath taking array of bangs! He was well and truly going insane. But now, temptation was in a yellow cab, driving safely through the city streets to her apartment, away from him and his wandering hands, and especially away from the massive explosion that suddenly sent him shrieking and scrambling in fear on all fours, somersaulting and diving out of the way of a giant falling nose and various hunks of granite, brick and glass.

And so that had been the night where this terrible farce of a play had begun, and he was now faced with an even more awful predicament in the present-day. He'd found a way to infuse Metro Man's very DNA into another creature, and he even had the proper tools to do it with. He clutched the Infusor Gun to his chest, glowing gold and throbbing with the hardly contained powers of invincibility, super strength, speed, and vision. But there was another problem. A big problem. A problem that was displayed on a dozen or so monitors, as one unified image.

Roxanne, clutching a cell phone and excitedly speaking into it.

A cell phone which was currently connected in a call to the one he held to his ear with an expression of terrible fear across his face.

A cell phone which Minion didn't know Megamind had brought back that night, because he'd never told him about his night in the Museum, or the Bernard disguise programmed into his watch. Or the real Bernard, laying somewhere in a dehydrated cube (Where had that cube even gone..?). So not only did Megamind have Minion glaring at him and his phone, trying to lean around to see what was going on and trying to listen in on the conversation, but now there was Roxanne Ritchi, standing outside his evil lair, preparing to enter it.

"It's the only building in Metro City with a fake observatory on the roof!" she was laughing, her excitement bubbling over the line as Minion and Megamind shared a frightened look. She was outside the Lair! With a camera! And nosy reporting skills!

"Ok! There's no way she'll find the secret entrance," he soothed the traumatized looking fish in a nervous tone, while covering the receiver of the phone with his palm, but Minion was already turning, trying to creep away stealthily.

A gasp came over the phone into his ear. "There's a doormat here that says Secret Entrance!"

MINION! His rage toward the simian shaped robot was unfathomable as the confession came out; Minion kept forgetting where the secret entrance was and therefore left out a crudely painted mat. Megamind flew into a fury of activity.

He seized the lumbering cyborg, and shoved him roughly into an industrial steel closet, forcing the Infusor Gun into his metallic grasp. Minion wailed and cried out in fear the entire way, until Megamind flattened his body against the doors of the cabinet, effectively silencing the creature, though he himself kept calling Minion names out of his own anger. Still clutching the phone in one hand, he raced to grab hold of the thick red curtains that hung from the rafters, sliding across the floor to drag them with his momentum until they covered up his main workspace. All of his plans! All of his machines, inventions, formulas! If she saw them... Oh he would KILL Minion!

He covered up his own shouts with lies to Roxanne. His... mother's urn. Yes. That's what he'd been yelling at. She just needed to stop and he would come get her!

If he could use the Bernard disguise, he could lead her out of the lair without her ever knowing anything! Perfect!

He snapped the phone shut, tearing off the reflective goggles and hair net he'd been wearing during their interrupted work, and he raced toward the secret entrance. Turning the dial on his watch, the familiar blast of blue light enveloped him, and when he looked down, his leather suit was gone, replaced with the uncomfortable khakis and blazer of Bernard. Then, he waited, hiding behind one of his robot prototypes as she passed by, camera in hand. Out he jumped and she whirled around with a scream, raising the digital camera as if to hurl it at him. He raised both arms in defensive quickly.

She relaxed visibly when she saw it was him. Or Bernard, rather.

"Oh I'm glad you're here. How did you get here so fast?"

Uh... He didn't think that one through.

He stammered out some weak excuse about speed-walking, raising his arms up high and swinging them at the shoulder in a very jaunty fashion. Formal speed-walking he corrected himself upon her observation of his attire. She seemed to accept it well enough, but that could be partially due to the laboratory around them that caught her attention.

None of what followed was his brightest moments. Not by a long shot.

While she was busily taking digital shots of all of his life's work, and he was practically trying to eat his fist to stop himself from freaking the hell out, he gave a hissed order to Minion through his watch and soon he heard the familiar _Bowg Bowg Bowg_ noise that normally calmed him. Brain-Bots. Except, their metallic drone like sound suddenly switched to a grating _Intruder_ chorus.

The Brain-Bots mistook him for an unwanted guest, probably avoiding grabbing her because he had tried to train them not to hurt his kidnap victim, which only meant that they latched onto his Bernard disguise and tried to carry him off the premises. His only hope was to switch the watch off, so he was promptly dropped and laid sprawled on the cold ground after a very un-elegant somersault.

Then, naturally, Roxanne showed up, demanding where Bernard was.

This began a complicated puppet show of leaning into a cellar door and pretending to torture Bernard by shouting and screaming in agony alternatively. Hopefully it would scare her enough she would leave. But instead, she hefted the Infusor Gun up in her arms and aimed it at him. His heart skipped a beat. Where had she even gotten that? God she looked hot holding one of his inventions... an invention that would infuse HIM with Metro Man's powers if she shot it at him! No longer hot! Just plain scary!

No, he couldn't let her fire the gun! It would ruin everything. So the act continued, now with him fake wrestling his own arms just to confuse her, as if he was fighting with Bernard in hand to hand combat. He then leapt out of the cellar door, crashing himself as Bernard back first into a wall with enough force to leave him not just fake-dizzy, but real-dizzy.

There, if she thought that Megamind was incapacitated, she'd leave!

Nope, not Miss Ritchi. She soldiered on, saying they needed to keep looking while Megamind was down, keeping a firm grip on that Infusor Gun, so he had to snarl in sheer anger and drop his disguise once more, sneaking away from behind her to instead lunge out of the shadows around an upcoming corner. They wrestled back and forth with the gun, as he tried not to harm her while he attempted to steal the gun from her steely grip. But she was REALLY strong, apparently, because he couldn't even get her fingers to loosen a touch on the trigger. In fact, it only made her grip tighten until...

ZAP! Ping ping-ping pang ping pang pingpangpingbingping PING! THUNK. OW! THUD.

The shot sailed through the lair, bouncing and refracting off of every surface it came in contact with before finding a pipe the led it rapidly out onto the street, colliding with some solid object that made Megamind MEEP loudly with uncertainty. He raced to the monitors, entirely ignoring Roxanne as he clutched the gun to his chest. What he stared at was the image of a thick set, short man, clutching his face and rolling on the ground in groggy agony.

Oh no. Metro Man's powers! All of his planning! He'd wanted to find the perfect candidate! The ideal man. And yet, Destiny had taken things into her own hands and given Megamind no choice in the matter.

"We have to find out who he is!" he was saying urgently to Minion who had scrambled out of the now fallen cupboard. Minion made an affirmative noise, trying to zoom the camera in, when Megamind spun violently.

He heard a scream of fear, a snapping noise and... Disco music?

"Oh no! The Boogie Alligators!" he shrieked, tossing the gun in the air for Minion to madly scramble to catch as he dashed across the lair with as much speed as he could manage, heart squeezing in his chest. He twisted the face of the hologram watch just before his hand shot forward through the open door that Roxanne was standing in, about to tip forward into the disco themed alligator pen.

He latched onto her wildly flailing arms as she stood on the very edge of the step that dropped suddenly into the square room filled with alligators, thrashing and tromping around, toys and disco lights littering the floor. He yanked her back with all the strength he had, hurriedly slamming the door closed so the sound of 60s inspired music was muffled.

Who knew alligators were so much more ornery when they were subjected to an environment with disco tunes and mirrored lights?

His heart was beating hard enough to explode out of his chest at the idea of her falling into the pit of angry reptiles, and he struggled to breathe while she didn't even really thank him for the save, but merely mentioned that the door had been very exciting. Not the word he'd use, as he tried to reign in his madly thumping pulse. More like traumatizing. Oh if she'd fallen... He didn't want to think about it. But apparently, all of his kidnapping had made her entirely unphased by terrifying things. She'd become an adrenaline junkie of some sort!

Before he knew it though, they were off running again as he tried to lead her toward the exit, her hair flying as they ran side by side with a swarm of Brain-Bots steadily following them. Before he could even tell her that he knew where an exit was, she tossed him a bundle of live dynamite.

God, he really needed to clean things up around here, if she was able to just snag something like that off a table.

With no choice, and his attempt to blow out the sparking fuse failed, he stage whispered a pitiful apology to his creations, tossing the sticks of explosives back at the group of Brain-Bots. They all stopped and looked at it curiously, seconds before an explosion bloomed to life and thrust the two of them in an epic movie-like explosion through the holographic secret entrance wall, and they hit the ground with enough force to knock the wind out of them.

Gasping, struggling to sit up after the explosion that had felt hot on his back, Megamind quickly looked up to see if Roxanne had survived. She was coughing into her hand, eyes squeezed shut, but overall she had no burns, or open wounds. Then she lifted her head and looked at him, eyes wide and sparkling like... she had enjoyed it.

"Wow," she sighed, still trying to recover her breathing and Megamind couldn't help but stare at her transfixed. Her cheeks were flushed red, a faint sheen of sweat shimmering on her neck. Her hair was ruffled, flying this way and that, like someone had been roughly playing with the strands. Her lips were parted, her eyes dilated. God, she looked like she'd just had sex.

"That was exciting! You were very strong in there!" she gasped, smiling in that breathy way, and they were so close that he felt her little puffs dance across his cheeks. His tongue stopped working, his body stopped working. His brain stopped working.

"I know," he said rather stupidly, just staring wide eyed. Oh my, he did like her hair like this. This was sex hair. Gasping, sweating sex hair. And she'd just called him strong. The implications were almost too much for his brain to handle, as it ran with vivid fantasies. He could have sworn he heard a fizzling sound of his brain literally frying itself.

"I've never seen anyone but Metro Man stand up to him like that," she was saying, staring into his eyes and he could only swallow, glad that the chubby fellow laying on the ground near them had chosen that time to speak up. Otherwise, he wasn't sure what he might have done. Or said. Or done and said at the same time.

There was a discussion about ninjas, and the chubby man named Hal fighting them off.

Suddenly Megamind recognized him. The one who was struck by the Infusor Gun!

With some hope in his voice, he commented on the man's bravery, excited that if the man could fight off ninjas, then surely he was worthy of Metro Man's powers!

But before he could comment on the situation any further, Roxanne called him her partner.

His world tipped and tilted as he struggled to repeat the word, feeling himself tumble over the syllables while his mind tried to process everything. Even more amazingly, she gazed back at him with eyes so wide, she looked almost ecstatic, and suddenly enveloped him in a hug.

He felt like an over-clocked computer. He was sure that sparks were exploding from his ears, and his whole brain just shrivelled up with joy, refusing to function except to memorize the feel of her chest pressing into his, her cheek warm against his shoulder, and how his trembling fingers felt against her shoulder blades through the fabric of her blazer.

He'd never experienced this. A hug. Let alone a hug from her. He'd forever remember it as the best moment of his entire life. When he was old and grey-ish-blue, he'd look back and remember it as his finest hour, recalling the warmth of her skin, the smell of her body and OHHHHHH god the feel of her hair against his cheek, perfectly smooth and deviously divine in texture. Then she was gone, punching him in the shoulder with a smug look, watching him over her shoulder as she pushed Hal toward the news van, as if she didn't want to stop looking at him.

He just managed a lame finger wave, drooling outright without any care if he was seen. Only after several long seconds of watching the van peel out down the street did he realize Minion's voice was piercing the silence, from his watch. He responded in kind to the Fish, after some hesitation. And it took him several even longer seconds to realize that Roxanne had said she was going to call him back tomorrow.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes: **Next chapter coming up fast, ladies and gents. Non-canon warning. I take a lot of liberties with this chapter, but it was a fun one to write. I really wanted to give Megs a motivation to see Roxanne for the string of dates that follows, and although it's been noted that Megs has a thing for Roxanne way back in the 'Please talk slower' scene, I still like the idea of him trying to justify everything in a scientific way, so naturally I had to weave it all into his greater plan! Because Megs is really a big picture kind of guy. Plus, I just like writing non-canon stuff :) R&R please!  
**Disclaimer:** 'Megamind' and all its characters are owned by _Dreamworks. _I own nothing.

* * *

**Falling Before Her Eyes**

_Chapter 4_

* * *

RING. Click.

"..."

"..Hello?"

"... Ollo?"

"Oh, Hi Bernard! It's Roxanne! Sorry, I thought the line was dead when you didn't say anything."

"Roxanne! Oh, I'm happy to hear from you!"

"Haha, you sound like you didn't think I would call."

"Ye- er no. No, it's not that. Well it is- I mean. Hmm."

"...Are you ok? You sound nervous?"

"Who ME? HAHAHAHA No. Not nervous at all. I'm great. FANTASTIC! ...How are you?"

"I'm good, thanks. So I'm calling because I was wondering what you were doing for lunch?"

"...Lunch?"

"You know, that meal between breakfast and dinner? You're silly!"

"Yes. I am quite silly. The silliest, even. Um, I'm not doing anything for lunch. Why? What are you doing?"

"I figured we could meet up. I'm actually thinking about playing hooky for the afternoon."

"Hooky?"

"Yea, I know, it's naughty of me. But I'm just so excited about our plans! I mean, I really want to pick your brain about Megamind."

"You're excited about our plans?"

"Of course! So how about we get together for something to eat. Ever been to that little bistro on Main and 2nd? Trattoria's?"

"...No."

"Really? Huh. Most people have been there. It's pretty well known in the city."

"I don't get out much."

"Ah, well then let me be your guide to Metro City! I'll show you all the best hot spots."

"Hot... spots?"

"Sure! We can explore them all together. It'll be exciting. I'll show you everything I know. It pays to be friends with a professional like me."

"Hot spots do sound very exciting..."

"Are you ok Bernard? You sound a little winded."

"OH! Sorry! I was... Speed-walking again."

"Ah, you and your speed-walking. Well, speed-walk your way to Trattoria's for 12:30? My treat."

"Yes, Ok! 12:30."

"Ok, see you soon Bernard!"

"See you soon Roxanne."

Click.

Sigh.

"Sir...? What was that?"

Megamind jumped three feet out of his chair where he'd dreamily been slumped, a guttural shout of nonsense syllables escaping his lips. He whipped around to see Minion towering over him, hands on his metal hips, eyes narrowed in suspicion. Megamind clutched the small flip-up cell phone protectively to his chest.

"NOTHING! It was nothing," he replied back shakily, his heart pounding in the cage of his chest and he tried to regain composure. How did such a giant robot sneak up on him so quickly?

"Was that Miss Ritchi?"

"...Maybe."

"Sir, I never asked before... but where did you get that cell phone?"

"Nowhere!"

"It must have come from somewhere, sir."

"It's none of your business, Minion! I'm the Evil Overlord of Metrocity! I'm allowed to have things too, you know. Like this cell phone. It's mine." He gripped it a bit more tightly, curling his fists around its silver casing, attempting to fix the towering Minion with a death glare.

"I stole it," he added for good measure to remind the fish he was evil. This fact was true in essence, since he had taken the phone from this Bernard character. He'd also stolen his glasses, and his identity, and had the man de-hydrated somewhere in the lair.

"... Well, alright sir. You are the boss. I'm just... wondering how you having lunch with Miss Ritchi will work out."

"You were listening in on my VERY private, VERY important phone call!" Megamind accused, pointing a finger at Minion's head, so the fish had to go cross eyed to view the digit.

"It's hard not to, sir. It's not like we get phone calls very often."

"I got the phone call. Not WE. Me. My phone, remember?" Megamind corrected the fish while waggling the phone in front of his tank. The fish tracked it with his eyes, narrowing them and pressing his face against the glass as if to try and analyze the piece of technology. Worried he might find something out, Megamind snatched the thing back and shoved it into his belt as he quickly pushed himself up from his chair to stalk away into the rest of the evil lair. He could hear Minion's heavy metal footsteps following him.

"Sir, I was just wondering about how you'll appear before her. Are you using a disguise?"

"_Are you using a disguise?_" Megamind stopped in mid stride and imitated Minion in a high, nasally voice, bending at the knees and flapping his hands at either side of his head like extra mouths in mockery. He then turned quickly to frown at his companion. "Of course I'm using a disguise! Do you think she would eat lunch with me like this?" he asked, gesturing to himself, clad as he was in the tight, form fitting black suit, the blue outlined lightning bolt travelling down his chest to outline his thighs. A studded belt wrapped around his thin hips, while bicep high gloves, and spiked shin guards added an extra menacing touch.

"No sir," Minion replied without hesitation. Megamind gave him a flat glare. "I mean... maybe?"

Megamind snarled in frustration and turned around with another flourish of his cape, going back to stalking through the large expanse of the warehouse, his thick soled boots clomping as he went. Minion followed.

"Look, sir. I'm just wondering about Hal Stewart, and all. I mean, don't we need to go and train him? He's not ready to be your arch nemesis until we give him the proper instruction, like you planned," the fish added with a flutter of his fins, motioning to the ideas that turned and moved in the stale breeze above them.

Hanging from hundreds of red strings of yarn, the evil mastermind had turned the ceiling into a mosaic of paper, post-it notes, pictures and schematics. Chalkboards, whiteboards, and drafting tables were lined with equations and hastily drawn sketches edged the room, and Megamind glanced around himself at the organized chaos his mind created to map out his ideas. He walked forward to view the clouds of ideas held up by bulldog clips, tape, wooden laundry pins, paper clips and simple holes punched through the paper for the string to be tied through. He paused to set his hand briefly on a mannequin body that stood off to the side, draped in white, red and shimmering orange-gold fabric, a flame design sketched onto a post-it and hastily tacked to the collarbone of the cotton body-stand.

Hal Stewart. The new Metro Man. The way to bring back Megamind's sense of purpose.

It had gone so well yesterday. The shot that had fired out from the Infusor Gun had struck the unwitting camera man, and within hours, the powers manifested themselves. He turned from the over-weight red-haired man into a muscled, flying superhero right before their eyes. And Megamind couldn't have asked for a better subject. Maybe someone a little more intelligent would have been a plus, but his dimwittedness served a purpose too. One clever disguise, and one fantastic accent (if Megamind said so himself), and Hal was eager to believe that he had a Space Dad as he called it, willing to teach him the ways of Super Hero-dom. And Megamind was perfect for the job.

After all, he knew everything about Metro Man. He knew what it would take to become a superhero. Who better to train the new protector of Metro City than the one who was always fighting to take it over? But the boy needed a lot of work. Weeks, even, of preparation. Megamind could wait. He was patient. Most of the time.

All of this was carefully mapped out in the hanging bits of paper above his large head. But try as he might, looking from one scrap to the other, from one board to the other, he couldn't find any mention of Roxanne Ritchi in all of this. And that meant, neither could Minion. He could see why the alien fish was wary about the lunch date (his heart pattered at the phrase).

Why was he going on this excursion to eat lunch with Roxanne? Sure, he had used the disguise of Bernard out of desperation for the past two times. But now, couldn't he just let Bernard disappear off the face of the Earth? Just never answer the phone that nestled against his hip, reminding him with its weight. She'd wonder where the man was, but it wasn't like anything bad could happen. Bernard would magically go away, and Roxanne would be alone at that restaurant, staring around herself while she sat at an empty table, until a soft sigh escaped her lips and her eyes became downcast.

No. If everything was to go according to plan, she needed to be happy.

It all made perfect sense. The new her, meaning the sad one that didn't bother to touch her hair, was very bad at reporting. She was depressing, dismal, and teary eyed on camera. Just as he had once found her hair-touching tic a distraction, so was this morose Roxanne. The old Roxanne, the perfect one, touched her hair and smiled and was snarky and fiery into the camera. She was entertaining, full of life, and brimming with confidence.

That Roxanne had briefly risen to life again, as if from the ashes, and had hugged him just yesterday. Hugged HIM. She had said he inspired her.

Therefore, if he wanted to have his battle with Hal Stewart (and the superhero he was to become) to be broadcast in a thrilling, epic way, then he needed the old Roxanne back. He needed her to be ready with her microphone and camera, reporting on the fantastic battle between Megamind and the new superhero. And right now, the only thing fanning the flames of her personality was him, as Bernard, going to lunch with her. If he continued to go to lunch with her, and inspire her, and take her phone calls, and be available for her every waking hour of the day, she would steadily rise back up to where she'd once been; feisty and perfect. So, ipso facto, he had a duty to date the hell out of her.

"Everything will go according to plan," he said with a slowly growing grin, staring up at the pieces of paper, grabbing one and tugging it down in his fingers. "We will train this Hal Stewart to be just like Metro Man. Don't concern yourself with any thoughts otherwise."

"Yes sir," Minion replied, blinking his brown eyes at his master, though his expression looked a little distrusting.

"As for Roxanne Ritchi, it is all part of my larger plan," he went on, without looking at his companion as he quickly threw the paper to the ground and instead rushed to vault perfectly over a stool by performing the splits, thin gangly legs flying out to either side before landing back on his feet again in front a stack of papers leaning against the wall.

With gusto, he began to tear through the pile, causing it to fall over and spill with a slap of paper and newsprint against concrete. His arms pin-wheeled, hurling pages and whole newspapers, books and magazines over his shoulders and the fish ducked down in his tank as one flapped suddenly against his glass dome. Minion carefully side stepped another batch of newsprint while peeling the pages off of his 'face', glancing down at it with some concern.

"Really sir." Minion did not sound convinced in the least.

"Of course it is! Why else would I disguise myself to eat lunch with her?" Megamind continued, giving a shout of victory as he raised a newspaper high in the air above his head. He madly began to leaf through it, tearing pages off in his excitement.

"I don't know sir."

"Exactly! You don't know because you're the minion. I'm the one with the big ideas." Finally finding the page he wanted, he ripped it out with a satisfying sound, and then carefully folded it, tongue sticking out between his teeth with all the concentration he could muster. Holding his handy work out at arm's length, he beamed with pride, before rushing over once again to where he had pulled down the scrap of paper from his idea collage that dangled above their heads.

Minion stared blankly as he watched his master then put this newspaper clipping into the spot the original piece had been. Standing back, Megamind sighed as if in relief, crossing his arms over his chest with a smug expression. Minion just screwed up his face in a look of consternated confusion.

"Everything will be perfect," the evil genius purred with contentment, as they both stared at the clipping, a shot of Roxanne Ritchi holding a microphone out at arm's length toward Metro Man, who was holding Megamind in his left hand by the back of his cape. But the page had been folded, so that Metro Man was gone from the image, and Megamind and Roxanne's images were lined up, her microphone aiming at him instead.

"... If you say so sir."

"I do!" he replied back with vehemence and then turned sharply on his heel to march with great purpose, oblivious to the feel of Minion's stare on his back.

He hardly gave the fish a second thought, as a short time later he had more important things to ponder. Such as whether or not his disguise generator was still working, and whether he was an idiot for going on this date.

Standing outside of the restaurant that Roxanne had chosen, Megamind twitched visibly, glaring as Bernard at everyone that passed by. His posture was as rigid as the building he had his back pressed against, his eyes wide and partially fearful as they darted to follow the movement of a woman and a stroller that rolled past him. He held his breath each time someone passed and watched them with shifting eyes as if expecting they would whip around and scream that a blue alien was standing outside of a popular bistro in downtown Metro City. But no one did, because the disguise generator showed them a lanky brunette male with glasses, whom they took as being just another regular citizen.

The city seemed to have slowly peeked its head out from whatever it had been hiding under since he took over. People were finally beginning to mill around in the streets again, as he hadn't shown much of his face to threaten anyone since his first weeks of toying around and causing mayhem. They were lulled into a sense of false security due to his lack of public appearances since then, although a good amount of the businesses centered around the City Hall were still closed, his own graffiti marring their windows and awnings.

But this part of the metropolis was further from the City Hall, and he hadn't gotten around to destroying this area. So people seemed a bit braver, and were carrying on with their lives as best they could. He could still hear snippets of conversation about the Banks being closed, about the law enforcement being useless in stopping the growing crime in lower income areas, and overall complaints since his reign began, from passersby. But he tried to ignore their words and focus on waiting.

His arms were stiff against his sides, finger tips drumming against his thighs nervously. He worried his lower lip under his teeth and hastily gave a quick look down to his watch, always careful not to touch the thing in case his fingers slipped on the dial and he de-activated the disguise generator on accident.

She was six minutes late.

He'd arrived quite early, he knew, but he hated tardiness.

He could be fairly patient in waiting for someone, if the need arose. Sometimes Metro Man took some extra time (or HAD taken some extra time, when he'd been alive) to get to wherever Megamind was causing destruction due to other hero obligations. And Megamind took it all in stride like a true professional. But he himself was never late. He tried not to keep people waiting. It was just rude. Not that Roxanne was being rude. He was sure she had a good reason to be late.

Maybe she couldn't play 'hooky' and had to work longer. But she'd call if that was the case.

He pulled out the phone and eyed the little indicator of power resources in the top corner. The little battery shaped symbol seemed full. He had 'all his bars', as he'd learned after doing extensive research on cell phones, their operation, and proper etiquette (He was also well versed in emoticons and actually looked forward to when he could show his new prowess off to Roxanne. He was gonna impress the hell out of her with his smiley faces). This meant he had full signal in the city core and should be able to receive a call without problem.

Maybe her phone was dead.

Maybe SHE was dead.

His throat went dry and he shoved the phone back into Bernard's pants pocket with a shaking hand. Maybe there was some other evil villain out there that had captured her and there was no Metro Man to save her. Another villain might not take the care that he had always shown for her safety. He felt a bit sick at imagining her tied up by someone other than himself; of someone putting a bag over her head with the intention of doing more than just scaring her.

"Bernard!" a voice suddenly shook him out of his gruesome thought process and instinctively he dropped into a battle ready stance, hand jolting to his right hip where his De-Gun holster was normally bouncing against his thigh. As Bernard, there was no gun there, and he simply ended up aiming an imaginary gun at Roxanne while she blinked, looking down at his hand that clutched air, with one eyebrow raised curiously.

"Sorry I'm late," she said, drawing out the sentence unsurely while giving him a sceptical look. He hurriedly stood normal, trying to hide the gun-pointing gesture by carrying on the movement and forcing his hand up to run through his hair awkwardly. Hair felt weird against his fingers, even if it was holographic. Just knowing he was appearing like he was touching the strands made him shiver.

"Ah! Roxanne! Hi. Sorry! I mean, no problem. Right?" He was acting like an idiot and could hardly stop the bubble of words that erupted from his lips, his heart beating frantically in his chest. She graced him with a tiny half smile that made her eyes crinkle around the edges.

"Been waiting long?" she asked.

"Ye-NO. Not at all. How are you?"

"Tired," she admitted in a show of weakness, her facial expression falling so he saw the fatigue around her face, and up close now, he struggled to reign in his reaction to her appearance.

Her makeup was lazy at best, not her usual calibre, and though her coat was buttoned up and he couldn't tell what she was wearing, her more casual sneakers let him know it wasn't a proper reporter outfit. And it didn't look like she'd done anything to her hair that morning, as there was even a small portion near the crown of her head that curled unnaturally to the rest. But she was already making her way toward the door to the restaurant, so Megamind dashed to grab the door for her, holding it open while she passed and he could lean in to investigate the odd swirl of hair at the back of her hair. Very curious. He had to urge to try and put it the way it should be and he frowned.

"Tired? Why are you tired?" he asked after he quickly pulled a chair out for her once they were shown to a table, and after he'd glared pointedly at the smarmy looking waiter who'd attempted to say something about her being the famous Roxanne Ritchi. The man hurried off with the phrase still on his lips, sending Bernard a wary glance after the death stare he'd been given. Megamind switched his expression back to concern when looking at Roxanne.

"Ah, just a long day. Haven't slept well. You know how it goes," she replied in an offhand way, raising her menu to peruse the selection of food. Megamind didn't even touch the menu in front of him, not even really taking in the cafe atmosphere around them, although he was aware of the hiss of a coffee machine, the chatter of flowing conversation, and the clink of silverware on plates.

"Why didn't you sleep?" he asked, tilting his head. He often didn't sleep, but that was different. He had so many ideas running through his head that he wasn't allowed to sleep until they were transferred to paper. But what about her?

"How can I sleep Bernard? When the entire city is ruled by HIM," she snapped now, her mouth turning down into a frown, and finally Megamind had a mind to look at the choices on the menu in front of him, heat rising in his collar.

"Oh."

"I mean, now he's just disappeared! He's not even caring what happens to the city! People are suffering," she offered with sadness in her voice before an exhausted sigh escaped her lips that seemed pale without any colour on them.

Oh why was she so dishevelled! It made things so hard to concentrate on when his mind kept making observations and comparisons to how she used to be. He had no real working knowledge of fixing up make-up or hair, its purpose, or how she did it. All he knew was the effect of when she didn't; her emotions were racing across her face without any buffer for him. It was like a tidal wave of feelings crashing against him, and there was no dam or levee to help ease the flow.

"It's like he's toying with us. He destroys part of the city, shuts down all of the major services like banks and sanitation, and the police, and the local government! Crime is worse than ever with Metro Man gone anyways, but now we don't even have emergency services. And he even took all the paintings from the gallery and ransacked the museums! What purpose could that even serve for him? Priceless pieces of art are all gone because of his selfish desire to cause havoc!" She slammed her fists against the table, making their silverware jump and clatter. Heads turned to view her, and Megamind tried to make a soothing motion with his hands, nervously looking at the others that were staring at them.

"N-now, just calm down," he tried softly, and she heaved a sigh, oblivious to the onlookers.

"And all I do, all day long, is research and write and read about all he's doing so I can report it to the city. I can't escape it when I'm at work, and I can't escape it when I'm at home. I'm always reminded about how awful things are now that Metro Man is gone," she half whispered and Megamind had to busy himself with lining up his cutlery and plate exactly as they should be, so he didn't have to look at her face while she spoke. He cleared his throat after a long moment.

"Yes... it is worse with him gone," he offered quietly, smoothing the table cloth in front of him gently, sighing as well and letting his shoulders sag. "I don't think Megamind realized... how different things would be once Metro Man was gone."

"He never really thinks things through, does he?" Roxanne said with an unhappy smile, and she then gave a dry laugh, raking her hands through her hair so it looked worse than it had before. Still with fingers tangled in her tresses, she leaned that arm's elbow on the table and gazed at him with a tilted head.

"I'm not being a very good lunch date, am I?"

"No! No it's fine. If you're upset, it's good to talk. Minio- I mean, my... friend told me that."

"Your friend may be right, but it's not very polite of me."

"It's OK Roxanne," he said with a hopeful smile on his face. "I like hearing you talk." There was a tenderness in his voice he didn't quite recognize himself.

"Thanks Bernard. It's nice to have someone to vent to. Especially when I know we can do something about all of this."

Megamind's tenderness disappeared, replaced with caution, narrowing his eyes a fraction and opening his mouth to respond, but soon the waiter came back (giving Roxanne a good amount of room this time) and took their orders. He simply ordered the exact same as her for simplicity's sake and to get the waiter to leave quicker.

"What can we do about all of this?" he finally was able to ask once they had water. Roxanne took a fortifying sip of the icy liquid and smirked a little bit.

"Well, with your knowledge of Megamind, we can start to do some investigating. If I know Megamind, and after being kidnapped by him so many times I think I know him fairly well, he's got to be planning something BIG to terrorize the city with."

"Really?" Megamind choked on the water he'd been drinking, coughing into his hand mightily. He wasn't sure which was more disturbing; that Roxanne thought she knew him, or that she was expecting him to terrorize the city in some grand way, when he had no real plans to do anything of the sort at the moment.

"Yes! I mean, he's practically gone into hiding. He always does that before he unleashes something big! So you and I need to start nosing around to find out what it is, and STOP it!"

"Wow. That sounds... difficult," he grumbled, sweating in his seat and he adjusted the collar of the turtleneck anxiously, to let more air reach his heated skin.

"Maybe a little bit... We'll have to really put some man hours into this I imagine. We'll have to spend a lot of time together so we can discuss things. Do you think that will be ok? I know the renovations on the Museum must make you really busy."

"Museum?" he asked blankly, his mind still too caught on the whole 'spend a lot of time together' part of her statement to recognize that as Bernard, he was supposed to be the curator of the Metro Man Museum. Shaking his head violently as if to jumble his thoughts back the way they should be, he scratched his chin thoughtfully. It felt odd having no line of hair there, but the motion gave him time to think and arrange his thoughts properly.

"Oh yes, the Museum. Well, after having the walls and... ceiling... removed... I have some free time actually. A lot. A lot of free time. So I can meet you whenever you like. Any time." He said that maybe a little too quickly, too hopefully, and he feared she might catch the excitement in his voice. And his earnest commitment to the fact that if she called him at any time of day or night, he'd be out the door before she'd finished the sentence. But she seemed to find the comment acceptable and her eyes lit up with something akin to happiness.

"Really?" she said, seeming happy about this, and little butterflies came to life in his stomach. Their food arrived and he didn't even look down at it, as he was so focussed on her pleased expression. "That's great!"

"Yes, it is."

"So," she began, first reaching and smoothing her hair down at the back of her hair, effectively taming the curling section he had seen earlier. A smile bloomed on his face madly. Raising her fork and knife to begin to eat, she progressively became more animated as she started to talk. "I think we should begin by doing research. I know there's a bunch of really good books at the library about Megamind that we can use. I've already read them all, but it can't hurt to review, right?"

"Hmm," he replied with a noncommittal noise, too busy smiling to himself and watching her eat to say anything more, but her excitement was great enough to barely even need his input. And his excitement was too great for him to be able to form intelligent words.

First of all, she'd fixed her hair, which was one step away from a bang-flick, and that made him want to sigh dreamily and stare at her like a love-sick teenager. Secondly, she'd read books on him. Pride swelled in his chest and he felt red creeping up his neck and ears with joy at her interest in him. He conveniently chose to ignore the fact she read the books as part of her job and for the intent of bringing him to justice versus genuine interest in him as a person. Beggars couldn't be choosers.

She continued to talk and eat and eat and talk, her colour returning and her eyes brightening. He was right - this plan would work. If he continued to be around her and inspire her, she'd return to the way she was. She'd already fixed her hair at least a little bit within half an hour of his company. This would work. And it only required a slight sacrifice of time on his behalf. One he was happy to make.

And for the next several weeks, he made that sacrifice again and again. Quite willingly. And the results were almost instantaneous.

"But before I could tell him he had misaligned the wires, my assistant turned it on," he was saying at their next meeting at the local library, leaning forward over the table expectantly. Roxanne sat on the other side, gripping her sides with one arm, while her free hand was slapped across her mouth, trying in vain to stifle the fit of giggles that was erupting out of her lips.

"So he turns on the machine, and temporarily disrupts power to the entire Eastern grid, and we end up missing the show anyways!" he grinned as he finished his story, and Roxanne doubled over, snorting with laughter, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. Her laughter was so contagious, he found himself laughing loudly as well, despite the 'hushing' noises the librarian had been giving them for the past hour.

"Oh that was such a funny story! And brilliantly told, by the way," he giggled into his fist, referring to his own narrative about when Minion and himself had attempted to develop a video recording system that could go back in time to record a show that had already begun, as Minion had been simpering about missing some new drama he was enjoying on cable. Something about a Creek and a fellow named Crawson? Naturally, when he retold the story, he changed some facts, particularly with calling Minion a research assistant and that he, Bernard, had studied the sciences at a rather prestigious University Research Lab that Megamind had once stolen from. She seemed to buy the idea, and it made it much easier for him to tell her stories about his life without giving away too much.

"Ok! Now you tell one!" he said eagerly, shifting in his chair to lean very close, excited.

She was still giggling though, eyes shimmering in the low light of the lamp at their table. A small smile curved her lips.

Oh how she had improved in the short time since he'd instigated his Fix Roxanne plan. She smiled more, had put more care into her appearance, and her hair was beginning to retain its old shine again.

He'd done extensive research on follicles since their day at the restaurant, and was now aware of their unique structure and what sort of care needed to go into it looking the way hers used to. It answered all his questions about why her hair had looked so dull while she was upset.

The downside to him reading up on her tresses was that he read about the fact that stress could make hair fall out. This had sent him into a tailspin of fear and anxiety. What if she became so anxious about him taking over the city, and about Metro Man's death that her hair began to simply fall off her head in giant clumps? He'd stayed awake for three straight days with these thoughts haunting him, staring into the darkness of the late night. He stifled a shudder at the thought and concentrated on her improvements as of late. She was by no means back to normal, but she was getting there. He'd know he made progress when she'd touch her hair again, like she had at the restaurant. That was his next marker of success.

"Bernard, I had no idea you were so funny," she said at last, once her melodic laughter had settled. The sound made him feel warm and calm.

"And I've never heard you laugh before," he confessed, and when she shyly gazed down, his heart settled into his throat. As if in slow motion, she looked up at him through the veil of her bangs, and her fingers reached up to brush them to the side.

"It's been a while," she said softly, and he swore that his entire body melted into the floor as relief flooded his system.

"Yea. It has," he smiled dreamily, more referring to her involuntary tic than to her laughter, although that was a plus too.

But as he buried his nose into the book about him (which was mostly wrong), he dared to peek over the top of the large volume, just to see her again, to make sure he wasn't dreaming that she had touched her hair. Had she already reached the success marker in his experiment? So quickly too?

Reading studiously, her bangs tickled her brow again and up came her fingers, swiping the strands back and tucking a few of the longer ones behind her ear. He sighed audibly and she looked up.

"What was that?"

"NOTHING." He thrust his whole face into the book, far too close to be actually reading any words, but it hid his growing blush at being caught. Not like he needed to read the books. It was all pretence to get her to get better, so that she could report at her best. But it made her happy to think they were working together on finding out what he, as in Megamind, had planned. And a happy Roxanne was a good reporting Roxanne.

How shocked would she be when she found out that this big plan she thought he was hatching was nothing really. Well, not anything she was expecting at least. She'd probably be more shocked to figure out who he really was beneath Bernard's amiable face. But she'd never find out. That was the point of lying. Megamind was sure of that.

He had already set into motion the majority of his plans, and this was just another step in the greater design. And Roxanne would play her part, as she always had. And when Hal was trained, and the battle suit was built, she would be ready to report. And then, Bernard would disappear. And he'd carry on his life. Everything would be perfect.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes: **Here's another chapter, re-proof read but still original to when I wrote it in the past. For those of you wondering, I am still updating to the LiveJournal Community. However, with school weighing heavy on me as the end of the term approaches, I'm holding off on new chapters until I can have all my mid-terms done. So for now, I'm just going to use the next week or so to catch up with Chapter 8 that's already posted to LJ. So, here is Chapter 5. Inspired by some of the concept art found here: .  
**Disclaimer:** 'Megamind' and all its characters are owned by _Dreamworks. _I own nothing.

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**Falling Before Her Eyes**

_Chapter 5_

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Megamind felt as if he had three very separate personalities all of a sudden. It was like a bad comedy movie, similar to the ones Minion sometimes forced him to watch as a way of observing humans and social customs. He had to struggle to keep the three lives very separate; Himself as Space Dad working to teach Hal Stewart the ways of being a hero, his life as Bernard standing alongside Roxanne, and then there was just him, Megamind, developing a large battle suit for his inevitable fight with his new hero.

Sometimes Space Dad, Megamind and Bernard all wanted the same thing, but sometimes they didn't. Sometimes he had to stop being one and had to rush to be the other, constantly twirling the face of his watch so the tiny mechanics inside groaned with the stress of changing again and again. He could feel the heat put out by the device against the back of his wrist, and the spot itched and burned by the end of the day.

Some days, late at night, he reflected that he had a bit of an identity crisis in terms of which 'self' was more true. The ones he had to disguise himself as, or just him staring back in the mirror, blue and tall headed.

As Space Dad, he knew he was working toward righting what wrongs were happening in the world because of him destroying Metro Man. Hal was improving with each day; not that it wasn't a struggle as he did lack most of Metro Man's personality and the things that made him a great hero, like morals, simple logic, a sense of justice, restraint...

Megamind shuddered at remembering the violence with which Hal 'practiced' fighting him.

_Zap Zap Zap_ echoed in his nightmares some nights, accompanied with the sensation of having his face liquefied by heat-vision.

But it would be worth it in the end. All his hard work would pay off.

As the true Megamind, his goal was clear. Purpose. He needed to find purpose again in his life, and not just the fleeting sort of short-term goals like Build a Battle Suit, or Train Hal and Fight Hal. No, he needed an overarching reason for being. And that purpose would start with... building a battle suit and training Hal, then fighting Hal. Either way, he would soon be done his giant mechanical suit, and his life would have purpose once again. He would be brought to justice, and everything would return to the way it was. This thought kept him up at night, working diligently with Minion at his side to perfect the schematics for his best invention yet. With owning the entire town pretty much outright, he had to admit it was much easier to get supplies this way, so the machine was coming along quickly and efficiently.

But then there was Bernard. Where would Bernard be, after Space Dad's job was done and Hal was a hero, and Megamind completed his battle suit and used it in an epic battle? His plan had been to have Roxanne report on the epic battle. But, then... after that, there would be a hero around to keep her happy and she'd keep reporting because of that. Once Hal was ready and their battles began, Bernard became obsolete.

He reflected on this with a numb heart while leaning against the workbench he was currently attached to. His left arm was encased in a thick glove, a heavy metal casing surrounding it from wrist to elbow, electrodes and wires travelling to a large computer terminal. He was using his right hand to reach across the other immobile arm, typing on the keyboard with less than enthusiasm. Dials flashed, and lights blinked in the giant warehouse, the soft sounds of computer motors whirring and Brain-Bots moving around filling the air.

"Are you ready to test the battle suit sir?" Minion called from across the Lair, and Megamind turned to look at his companion, who was standing beside a massive arm made of metal and electronics, the thing easily as big as a tanker truck. It looked skeletal in nature, all raw mechanics and open wiring strapped to a metal frame. They had to work out the hydraulics first, before the thing could be decorated.

"Hmm? Oh, yes. Of course Minion," he replied without much conviction, and he turned to press a few buttons beside him. The sound of engines roaring to life and gears spinning met his ears. The hum of electricity made the air vibrate. Checking his calculations one last time, Megamind hit another button in front of him and then looked at his gloved left hand still connected to the sensors and he slowly tightened his fingers into a fist. The black glove glowed blue along tracks of fibre optics, and as he looked over at the massive robotic hand that Minion stood near, it too formed a fist, the whole thing shifting and grinding.

"Success sir!" Minion cried cheerfully, and Megamind flexed and unflexed his hand, watching the corresponding movement in the battle suit arm.

"Very good," he replied in a lacklustre tone. He just couldn't get into the spirit of it today, it seemed, as he kept thinking about Bernard, and his normal life that was beginning to hold more and more appeal when compared to all of this. Even a giant robotic hand that mimicked his every movement couldn't shake his sense of unease, and his longing for Bernard's perfect life.

But that was all fake, wasn't it? His feelings of normalcy, of finally fitting in, were all dependent on that disguise. But once Hal was up and running, Roxanne wouldn't need Bernard around to inspire her to continue to report anymore. So where did that leave Megamind and his new found joy of being able to walk around without people screeching in fear? Once, the chorus of screams had been soothing to him. Now... He didn't know how he felt.

He was suddenly ripped from his musings by the tell-tale tune of the cell phone at his hip. Forgetting about the experiment, he quickly whipped around and scrambled to grab the device, a grin already splitting across his face, his worries melting away.

"Sir! Careful! Maybe you should de-activate the battle suit firs-"

"Roxanne! Hello!" He couldn't stop the delight from filling him. Normalcy aside, what would he do without the joy that Roxanne brought to his life? His heart pitter-pattered just knowing she was on the phone.

"Hi Bernard!" Roxanne said across the line, and he could hear the smile in her voice. He smiled back, leaning more comfortably on the work desk. He ignored the fussing that Minion was making.

"How are you today, Miss Ritchi?" he asked comfortably, his smile turning lazy and content, eyes half-lidded as calm flowed through him, just from speaking with her. All his thoughts and anxieties about Bernard disappeared to be replaced with just the thought of her. Roxanne.

"Pretty well actually. Look, it's Saturday so I thought we could get together," she was saying.

"Eager to do more research?" he asked, using his left hand to roll a pencil back and forth across the desk. He heard some crashing and Minion's shocked cry in the background, but figured the servant was stumbling and tripping over things again. He'd have to work on a better suit for the fish, once things calmed down and he had more time. He felt tugged in so many directions as it was, living three separate lives that he hardly had a moment to breathe let alone make a more coordinated suit for Minion.

"Actually, no. We've been working so hard recently, and I've kind of hit a block, so I actually wanted to see if you wanted to do something fun today." She sounded hopefully, a tad anxious.

"Something fun? Oh, well, what do you have in mind?" he asked, his voice going practically sultry with implications, but he cringed to himself at how it had sounded to his own ears. It sounded a bit too much like how he sometimes had purred to her during all those kidnappings. The word Temptress was right there at the tip of his tongue, so he hurriedly carried on in a more casual, light tone. "I mean, what is there to do in this city that's fun?"

"Oh lots of stuff!" she laughed into the receiver, and he sighed, dreamily picking up the keys to the invisible car where they sat in front of him. He played with the keychain between his fingers of his left hand, examining it and the blue lightning bolt engraved on the key's face, continuing to ignore the shouts of Minion calling for him.

"I thought we could actually go bike riding."

"Bike riding?" he asked, sitting up a bit and wrapping his fingers fully around the keys. Minion FINALLY stopped shouting, so he could focus on the conversation at hand. "I've never been bike riding," he confessed awkwardly.

"Really? Wow, you don't get out much at all do you? Not even as a kid?"

"No... I never had access to a bicycle when I was a child. Well, actually, I had one... but they took it away," he said, a little more miserably than he should have, so he began to toss the keys up into the air and catch them, as if to lighten his own mood. Minion started yelling again, panic in his voice, and Megamind ground his teeth in annoyance, sending a glare his way without actually really looking. Perhaps he should finish the phone call to see what was the matter with the stupid fish... "But I'd love to try it with you. When shall we meet, Miss Ritchi?"

"How about in an hour at Metro City Park? You can rent bikes there."

"Wonderful! I will BE there!" he grinned with enthusiasm and then hung up, tossing the keys once more in his hand and then catching them quickly, before turning to glare at Minion.

"There, now what was all that fuss ab—Minion?" he asked, seeing the Lair was entirely empty. He looked left and then right, leaning slightly as if to see further past the motionless mechanical arm that took up the majority of the space. "Minion?" he called again a little unsurely. No response.

"Well, the nerve..." he muttered, tossing the keys once more for good measure, and the giant robotic arm taking up a portion of the floor mimicked the motion, and Minion's scream sliced through the air. Megamind watched with some amazement as the mechanical hand opened up and threw Minion into the air, catching him again, just as he had been doing with the keys.

Oops.

Hurriedly, he guided his own arm to set the keys down on the table gently, and the giant arm followed suit to set Minion down, who was spinning madly in his tank, his robotic body stumbling this way and that as if he had just gotten off of a rollercoaster ride. Then he promptly collapsed to the ground, groaning.

"T-thank you Sir," he managed weakly.

Realizing he had been inadvertently tossing the poor creature around like he'd been doing with the keys, Megamind clambered to turn off the computer, shut down the mechanical arm, and then slowly extract himself from the battle suit arm-sensors. Minion laid still on the ground, alive and seemingly undamaged but severely dizzy. The nutrient rich liquid that filled his tank was still swirling and rocking back and forth, bubbles foaming up the top third of the dome from the seemingly violent ride he'd endured.

"Well... The... experiment was a success then," Megamind stated awkwardly, slowly inching his way out of the area. "I'll just... leave you to... clean up then." And he all but ran for the exit before the fish could pull himself together and give him the lecture he no doubt deserved. Guilt plagued him and his stomach felt like he'd swallowed a dozen or so of the steel bolts lying around the Lair. _Oh Minion. Please forgive me._

This was getting bad. Roxanne was back to distracting him terribly, so much so that he wasn't paying proper attention to his duties as either Space Dad, or Megamind. This third personality, Bernard, was beginning to consume him. Maybe it was time to drop the charade and focus on what was important.

...But he'd already said he would meet her. So maybe he'd go on just this one little date. It couldn't hurt, could it? He could stop whenever he wanted to. ...Right?

Right. Exactly. He just had to keep his head in the game. And the best way to do that was to put some distance in between himself and the project. Look at it objectively, without bias, and not let silly things like emotions get in the way. He'd look at it like any other sort of experiment. That was it! This was an experiment! Just like his other plans. If he could break it down into parts, and then simply go through it by procedure, he'd be able to emotionally step back from Roxanne without endangering the mission in any way. GENIUS.

So he tried to break down his time with Roxanne into experiments. A new section of his idea wall was created, which Minion continued to frown at each time he found Megamind atop his ladder, scissors, clips and yarn in hand, eagerly slinging long lines of the string from the rafters. But the evil super-genius brushed off any comments, purporting that because he had a research design it was all very scientific indeed and warranted no concern. But Megamind caught the fish staring and reading over his proposals and observations with great scrutiny. So much so that Megamind had to tear apart one of the sheets of paper before his companion could read it, due to the silly little heart he'd accidentally sketched onto the bottom of it. How had that happened...? Must have been doodling as he was thinking and his pen had randomly scribbled out a simple shape, which just so happened to be the shape humans called a heart.

Why'd they pick that shape anyways? The human heart looked nothing like that...

Hastily, he had to rewrite his whole experiment for that date in his sharp, jagged and very meticulously legible script and it looked something like this:

Date #3 (See Date #1 [RESTAURANT] and Date #2 [LIBRARY] for reference)  
Location: METRO CITY PARK  
Activity: BIKE RIDING  
Environmental Factors: 61 DEGREES. SUNNY. NW WIND 8 MPH  
Pre-Test Observations: ROXANNE APPEARS HAPPY. DRESSED CASUALLY. HAIR IS NICE. LOOKS CUTE WITH PINK HELMET ON.  
Experimental Procedures: RIDE BIKES THROUGH PARK.  
Post-Test Observations: ROXANNE LAUGHS WHEN I FALL [4 TIMES] BUT IS SUPPORTIVE. SMILES A LOT. IS GREATLY DISTURBED BY GARBAGE IN PARK. STOPS SMILING.  
Conclusions: ROXANNE HAS SENTIMENTAL VALUE ATTACHED TO PARK [SEE NOTES ON Mother]. GARBAGE DISTURBS HER AND RUINS HER MOOD.  
Follow Up: CITY MUST BE CLEANED FOR ROXANNE TO REACH GOAL.

Minion was walking by as Megamind leaned precariously on his rolling ladder to put this rewritten experiment up where the original had sat. Holding a laundry basket against his one hip, the fish suddenly extended a mechanical arm with a whirr of machinery, grabbing the sheet of paper straight from Megamind's hand. Gasping and shouting out obscenities, the criminal genius had to wrap arms and legs around the side rung of the ladder as Minion's arm retracted back to himself. The sudden instrusion caused Megamind to lose his balance while trying to snatch it back, and the ladder clattering loudly as it rocked back and forth until settling into place again.

"MINION!" he screamed in rage, sliding down the ladder fully to rush over to his servant.

"Is this why we cleaned up the city last night, sir?" Minion asked, his fish face contorted in a frown. His fins fluttered angrily, and his jagged front teeth seemed more pronounced with his entire body twisted in a frown.

Megamind snarled and lunged at the robot, who screamed in fright and promptly lost the battle to hold onto the loose leaf paper after Megamind started to climb all over him. Smoothing the paper delicately, clutching it to his chest, the blue alien glared at the other.

"How DARE you! I think you're forgetting your place Minion!" he snapped, over exaggerating the last syllable of the creature's name, before he stormed back over to the ladder, hastily clambering up to clip the entry in place.

"Sir, I'm just trying to understand," Minion pleaded, bending down to scoop up the laundry that had fallen from his grasp after trying to block Megamind from getting the experiment report.

"You don't need to understand anything, Minion. Just do as you're told!"

Minion made a soft little mewl of hurt at this, but Megamind just frowned expressively, back turned to his caretaker, clutching the rungs of the ladder in a deadly grip.

"FINE sir," the fish said back firmly, and Megamind dared to look over his shoulder just an inch, seeing his companion and lifelong friend with lower lip quivering, before he marched off, hugging the laundry basket to himself. A heavy sigh escaped Megamind as his body seemed to slump against the ladder with weariness. He gazed around himself, hovering in a cloud of paper and ideas, taking a few steadying breaths of air as if to fortify himself, before pulling another paper out of his belt. He unfolded it carefully, smoothing its creases with his fingers, before he clipped it up beside the last report. It was mostly blank, as if preparing for more data to be entered later, but the top held that day's date and the words DATE #4. Location: ART GALLERY. 1:00 PM.

Glancing down at his watch, seeing both hands pointing up at the 12, he slowly stepped down each step of the ladder, something he rarely did, and then prepared to get ready for the next stage.

The Brain-Bots had already been at work for sometime before he brought Roxanne to the steps of the Museum and Art Gallery. By now, they should all be gone, their work completed. No doubt Minion would be growing angry once he figured out that Megamind had used them for such a purpose as this, but he quickly put the cyborg out of his mind and focussed on Roxanne, dressed in a prim white button up short sleeved shirt, and some form of grey skirt that hugged her wide curves and made her heels all the more attractive on her surprisingly thin legs.

She was smiling at him in an untrusting, but joking sort of way.

"What's this big surprise you have for me, Bernard?" she was asking, her tone teasing. She looked a little bit excited to have a surprise prepared for her, and he smiled at her with a casual shrug.

"Oh, just something I know you'll enjoy," he responded in an offhand way, though his stomach clenched with nervous energy, hoping she DID enjoy it as much as he thought she would. He led her up the steps of the white washed building, being so bold as to guide her by the elbow as they reached the front doors. It had been closed to the public after Megamind, or he, had taken to using it as his personal office-decorating depot. But now, the caution tape was gone, and the facade of the building with all its columns and large windows, was cleaned of graffiti and back to some form of normalcy.

Eagerly, he reached to open the front door but then stopped and glanced at her. She smiled back at him with a questioning look.

"Close your eyes," he said with sudden excitement, and although she blinked at first, she did as instructed, a bemused grin stealing across her lips. He practically giggled with anticipation, and threw open the doors so they could walk in, before scampering around behind her, doing something he'd wanted to do forever.

He laid his hands gingerly across her eyes, his thumbs resting against the tendrils of her bangs and she gave a little gasp of shock. The sound seemed to send a zip of awareness through his body and he dared to lean against her and whisper in her ear. Oh the thoughts that ran through his head as he took in her smell, the delicate curve of her ear so close to his mouth. But he just grinned.

"No peeking."

She gave a strangled sort of giggle in response, and he could feel her cheeks warming beneath his palms. Trying to reign in his own excitement about the situation, he nudged her forward a little bit so she was walking, still with his hands over her eyes. She had her hands out in front of her as if to catch herself should she bump into something, but he steered her forward so no harm would befall the reporter in her vulnerable state. They entered the gallery in this way, slowly walking forward past benches, her heels clipping and echoing in the vast open space meant to hold hundreds of people at once.

He stopped her after he was sure she was in a good enough position to see all of his work, but he kept his fingers there a few moments longer, savouring the feel of her skin, and the idea that he was at least part way touching the hair he had coveted for so long. The ends of the tapered strands tickled the knuckles of his thumbs, a few scant bits of the hair managing to be beneath the pad so his fingerprints felt alive with electricity. It was soft like silk, always shifting and moving as he struggled to move with her while staying at her back. He wanted to just melt into the sensation, to pull his hands up further on her freckled brow to burrow his fingers into the hair that taunted him so. But he restrained himself. Which was AMAZINGLY difficult. He hoped she appreciated just how difficult it was, especially since he could have buried his nose against the back of her head and just nuzzled his whole face into that glorious mop of hair. But he didn't.

Finally, after he was sure he'd absorbed as much of the moment as he could for future memories, he opened his hands and spread them wide so she could see again. She gave a soft gasp and blinked in the light, turning in a slow circle to take in the previously empty gallery, filled with all of the paintings he had once stolen. Each was properly placed back in its spot, impeccably clean and lit professionally so the frame glistened under their individual lamps. She spun and spun, mouth opened in shock, eyes shining more beautifully than any of the paintings displayed.

"They're all back! But how? Why?" she asked, her smile as wide as the sky, and even more gorgeous. She walked backwards, as if eager to go and view all the works of arts at once, but still wanting to see his face.

"Maybe Megamind isn't so bad after all," he offered with a humble smile, hands clasped behind his back to keep himself from touching her, his chest filling with an ever-expanding sense of accomplishment and happiness as she excitedly giggled, and pointed out a painting.

"OH!" she sighed, such a luxurious sound that Megamind wondered if he could record that and just play it on a loop over and over again. He'd never get any work done, but he'd be quite happy in the meantime.

"Look, it's _Starry Night_," she said with a smile, walking up to the painting as if it were an old friend. Megamind peered at the plaque beneath, claiming the art was done by Vincent Van Gogh. He tilted his head at the swirly blues and yellow of a glimmering sky that more resembled a sea to him, the way the colours bled and circled into each other. A dark spire of black jutted purposefully in the foreground, giving the illusion of the shadowy scenes of night that watched over a quiet town below.

"It's my favourite," she said with a grin, sitting down slowly onto a bench in front of it. He sat beside her and nodded.

"I can tell. I'm glad you're happy."

"How did this all happen, Bernard?" she asked again, still amazed and he struggled to just shrug. He wanted to blurb that he had done it for her, to make her happy, but he forced himself to say the words he'd practiced.

"I don't know, really. I was walking by the other night, and saw some lights on. When I went inside, all the paintings were back on the walls. I guess Megamind put them all back."

She made a little scoffing sound, setting her hands on the bench to either side of her, leaning back a bit.

"Hardly seems like something Megamind would do," she replied back dryly, and Megamind tried not to cringe.

"Maybe he's changed."

"You expect me to believe that? A lifetime of being evil, and suddenly he's good?"

"Well, maybe not suddenly. Perhaps he was never all the way evil." What was he saying?

"What do you mean?" Yes, Megamind, what do you mean?

"Well, maybe there was always a little part of him that didn't WANT to be evil. Maybe he had a rough childhood. Maybe it was his only option."

He knew he was digging himself a hole. A mighty big one. But something in him craved for her to agree, even a little bit, that he wasn't some spawn of the Devil. That even in all his evil treachery, she could see the little glimmers of morals in him. In how he had treated her. In his current actions, even though there was no way she would see this as being his handiwork. But at least cleaning up the city, and re-opening the banks and emergency services as he'd done earlier that week... Surely she could see some good in that? Couldn't she see how he was doing it to please her? To make her happy again? To bring her back, the way he wished he could do with Metro Man?

She didn't say anything though, and just sat in silence, staring at the canvas before her, her lower lip working slowly in thought. He cleared his throat, threading his fingers together and leaning forward so they hung between his knees, his forearms resting across the top of his legs.

"Thanks for showing me this Bernard."

"You're welcome," he replied automatically, chancing a look in her direction. She was smiling at him gently, reaching up to brush her hair back behind her ear, endearingly.

"I really appreciate it. I think it'll make the rest of my day go by a lot faster, knowing I can come back here and see everything back to normal. A little oasis, so to speak."

"Hmm," he replied back, none too pleased that because of him she would need to find an oasis of sanity in her world. He offered a sad, half smile and nodded. "Of course. I'm glad to help."

"Hey, why don't we go on a picnic tomorrow. Just you and me, in the park? Now that it's cleaned up, I can show you what a great place it is," she smiled and he nodded again, numbly.

"Of course. That would be nice." Sounded like more research for him. Pic-nic.

"Good. Look, I have to get going, but I'll call you later, ok Bernard?" she added and he smiled as best as he could, nodding and giving a little wave to her retreating back as she left the Museum. He stayed seated for some time after her rather sudden and abrupt exit, first looking down at his hands clasped together, and then back up to the painting before him.

The painting held such emotions, all warring with one another. There was something beautiful to the chaotic blend of colours. Something exceptionally lonely but at the same time filled with life about the stars against a swirling almost liquid pool of blue. The town below seemed sleepy and peaceful.

It seemed to echo the feelings coursing through him. All at once he felt joyous, filled with life, and filled with purpose, and yet at the same time, vast, empty and regretful. Guilt gnawed at the corners of his mind as he tried to rationalize what would happen in the future. He would eventually have to show her his real self. The self she refused to see any good in. He couldn't keep lying to her like this, not when he was having feelings for her that made his every lie and omission stab itself into his chest. God, he did have feelings for her, didn't he? Something that made his brain take a leave of absence when she was beside him. Something that made him forget who he was and what he was, all in favour of enjoying her company for even just a few minutes a day. This was no experiment. No objective plan to improve her skills as a reporter. It was all a cover up so he could indulge in his years long crush, guilt free.

But it wasn't guilt free.

How could he keep doing this? To himself? To her...?

His logic told him to cut his losses and disappear while he still could. Before he was in too deep. But another, tiny but growing stronger voice told him to be greedy. To take what small amounts of happiness he could find in his world and cling to them desperately. Lie, cheat, steal. Anything to hold onto what was precious for the little moment it was available. It would only be a matter of time before the rug was pulled out from under him again, and someone would rub in his face all the things that had eluded him thus far. What was the harm in finding a little oasis, as Roxanne said. Just a little place in his life to feel right and normal.

The voice grew louder and more insistent, pushing all rational thoughts to the side without him noticing.

Yes, he deserved to find happiness in the small moments with Roxanne. Minion be damned. The world be damned. Plan or not, he liked being with her. She filled up some empty place in his chest. And it eased the hollow ache he had always assumed was simply a part of being alive.

Just as the paintings and cleaning up the city had brought her to life bit by bit, so was he being awakened day by day.

He reached down and turned the watch, the zap of blue energy travelling down his body so he sat in his true form, eyes still fixed on the painting. Absently, he rubbed a gloved hand over his heart, wincing a bit.

But if he was finding such happiness, why did it have to hurt so much?


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes: **The picnic date! Some swearing here. Very much NON-CANON. There. I warned you :P This is quite a fluffy chapter! Just some silly ideas of mine to fill in what the rest of the date would have been like. Don't kill me for my head-canon .;; Hope you guys enjoy! (Digital Cookie to people who can pick up the other movie reference in this chapter).  
**Disclaimer:** 'Megamind' and all its characters are owned by _Dreamworks. _I own nothing.

* * *

**Falling Before Her Eyes**

_Chapter 6_

* * *

"And then Susan all of a sudden, is standing behind her in the bathroom and she heard the ENTIRE conversation."

"Oh that doesn't sound very good. Was she mad?"

"Of course she was mad! She totally flipped out on Megan! There was hair pulling and screaming and biting! The whole thing."

"How exciting!"

"Exciting? Bernard, it was horrible! It was like watching some reality show on MTV."

"Yes, I can see how that might be awkward... What happened next?"

"Well, I got the hell out of the bathroom, that's for sure, and ran into Bob, the janitor. I asked him to get in there to help break up the fight because I was wearing my new blazer, and there was no way I was gonna get a new jacket ripped for a bunch of petty bitches."

"ROXANNE! You cursed!"

"Oh gosh... Sorry. I have a bit of a potty mouth," the brunette cringed, raising her free hand to cover her lips, but a small grin still peeked past her fingers. She blushed prettily.

"No, I like it!" Megamind gushed, grinning at her from behind Bernard's glasses before he waggled his eyes brows suggestively. "It's so evil of you."

"Evil! Wow, that's a bit harsh. One swear word and I'm evil," she laughed with a fake frown on her face, elbowing him in the side before adjusting the weight of the basket she carried on that arm, walking along beside him through the slightly crowded Metro City Park.

"You said two expletives," he corrected her staunchly, holding up two fingers. "Hell and Bitches. But perhaps evil is a strong word. Maybe... wicked," he said thoughtfully with a nod. "At least more wicked than I had previously assumed." He carried a large red and white blanket rolled under his left arm, his other hand holding two bottles of water between his fingers.

"Well, I guess I can be a bad girl sometimes," she conceded with a sly smirk, stepping closer to him on the winding paved path to allow a pair of joggers to pass by, glancing at him coyly from under her bangs.

"I'm slowly becoming aware of that, Miss Ritchi. I like it very much" he replied back easily with a slow smile, and she giggled, breaking the eye contact to gaze out over the rolling green hills, tall trees, and winding river that bordered the walkway they were on.

The two were walking side by side through the park, following a slow and winding paved walkway that split off in many different directions through the beautiful woodland in the center of the city. They were currently making their way along one of the paths that bordered a wide stream built into the scenery, its banks lined with reeds and just blooming lily pads. The paved trail was raised slightly, its cobblestone siding providing a wall to the murky blue water to their left. A quaint bridge was just down the road, couples leaning over its edge to watch the ducks that slowly paddled their way along the smooth surface of the man-made river, bobbing for bits of bread and algae. Families frolicked on the grass and around the many trees to the right, kites flying in the gentle breeze, and active Metro City civilians were out on bikes, rollerblades, and running shoes to enjoy the unseasonably warm weather of the day.

Roxanne let out a luxurious sigh, transferring the burden of the basket filled with food to her opposite arm, so she could link hers with Bernard's, resting her head against his shoulder while they walked. Megamind, disguised as the brown haired Bernard, gave a start and stared down at the crown of her head, right beside his ear.

"This is how it should look all the time," she sighed softly, giving his arm a squeeze. He melted into the touch, his colour high with a blush of excitement. "I don't know why he did it, but I'm happy that Megamind cleaned up the parks."

"He has been doing a lot of good things for the city recently," he said as casually as he could, eyes riveted on the hair that brushed his cheek with every movement, and he tried to keep his shoulder steady and his stride even, so her head wasn't jolted around. Although any bump made that glorious hair shift and move, catching the afternoon sun so it shone red and brown and gold. And sometimes, the little breeze blew the strands so they tickled his face and neck. So maybe he should start jogging, then more of her hair would caress his skin.

He thought better of it and just surrendered with a dreamy grin to the sensations.

"It's kind of peculiar isn't it?" she replied thoughtfully, taking her head from his shoulder to frown. He bit back the whimper of sadness that rose in his throat.

Want!

But then he realized he had unwittingly caused a problem. By voicing the oddness of Megamind's sudden change in behaviour, he was opening up a new reason for Roxanne to need to do her job; investigate and be a nosy reporter. That was the ultimate goal, yes, to make her happy so she'd report well, (along with satisfying his need for her company...) but damnit. She was too good sometimes, and he'd been making a lot of mistakes lately. If she was ever quick enough to catch him in the act and somehow found out he was Megamind and not Bernard... well, he'd be travelling against the current on a particularly unpleasant bit of water passage without any means of propulsion.

He could practically see the gears turning in her head as she began to count all the changes that had been occurring recently. He'd cleaned the streets and parks of garbage. Reopened all of the banks. Returned the artwork and priceless antiques to the galleries. Allowed emergency services and the police to return to active duty. All rather suddenly and without explanation. And even more confounding, if she took the time to make the connection was that many of those decisions were made mere hours, or days after she had expressed these concerns to her current beau, Bernard.

She frowned quizzically, and made a soft noise in her throat that always signalled that she was thinking, and attempting to sort out a large problem. The sound was sexy as sin, because he knew it meant her impressive mind was working, which got him all hot and bothered, but right now it was a bit more terrifying than attractive. She had that effect a lot; she could switch from sex Goddess to potential disaster in milliseconds.

Damage control time!

"OH! Hey look, that's a nice hill! Why don't we sit up there? I mean my feet are getting TIRED, aren't your feet getting tired? I'm also VERY hungry! What did you bring in that basket?" he asked with a great deal of drama and emotion, bending his elbow that was entwined with hers, so she either had to wrench the limb free or was forced to walk with him when he sharply turned off the path. Marching up the hill with her at his side, he aimed for a secluded spot where the trees let slants of light through the canopy of their branches, and the blue of the sky could still be seen.

He had to stop her from asking questions and putting her skills of deductive reasoning to good use. He was good at planning, sure. Often times good at acting as well. But around her, he kept slipping up, making mistakes, and he wasn't at all being covert in his attempts to fix the city to make her happy. What an IDIOT he'd been. He was letting his love affair with the woman cloud all of his masterful intelligence. He had to be more careful.

Thankfully, Roxanne seemed happy to forget sometimes that the pretence of their meeting together was to try and find out what Megamind was planning. This made it easier to divert her thought processes before they got too far into unwanted territories.

Less and less did they talk about researching Megamind's past schemes, or trying to track his activities through the city. More and more, she was happy just to laugh and smile at him, going out to do fun and interesting excursions with little or no thought about their mission for justice. And Megamind wanted to keep it that way.

Luckily, she was still in that obliging sort of mood today, as she commented on the lovely spot and instructed him to set out the blanket while she got their food ready. He let out a sigh of relief and did as she said, flicking the blanket out so it was a perfect square under the shade of the trees, patches of pretty sunlight dotting its red and white checker surface.

They sat down side by side, and she passed him a wrapped sandwich and a bottle of water. Together, they ate in silence, munching slowly on their food while watching a pack of children run up and then tumble down the gentle slope of the hill, rolling and laughing as they played. Passersby continued to walk along the winding path they overlooked, their conversations soft and melting into the background din, interrupted by the twitter of birds, the rustle of leaves in the wind, and the splash of a water fowl diving beneath the glassy river.

Megamind had to reflect on the peacefulness of the scene. This was something he'd never dreamed he'd be able to do, let alone do it with Roxanne cross legged beside him. Any dream he had ever had about sitting on a blanket in the park on a lovely day normally involved killer robots, or an outing in orange jumpsuit and chains.

But here he was, swallowing a mouthful of bread, cheese, lettuce and sandwich meat, reaching toward one of the bottles of water between them at the same time she was. Their fingers touched, and like a pair of love-sick teens, they dissolved into giggles and coy little looks.

After a few more minutes of comfortable silence, she finished her sandwich before him, for once, as he was too busy musing and observing the world around him to concentrate on chewing. She balled up the napkin she had been using and tossed it smartly into the open basket near the far corner of the blanket before moving the water bottles to the side so she could lay down in the center of the red linens below them. He raised an eyebrow at her curiously, but then she patted the spot beside her with a 'come hither' sort of look that had him shoving the rest of the sandwich into his mouth, haphazardly throwing away the wrapper and then flopping down beside her in a roughly two seconds.

Cheeks still full of sandwich, he struggled to swallow while she dissolved into laughter, placing her hand on his arm as if for support.

"You're too funny sometimes Bernard," she giggled, and he finally swallowed loudly, coughing into his fist before turning his head to look at her, her hair looking copper against the red of the blanket. He smiled gently.

"Funny is good?" he asked.

"Funny is very good," she replied, tickling her fingers up his ribs so he twitched in response, squirming away from the touch even as heat coursed through his veins. He could feel the warmth on his side, as if she had literally scorched his flesh. His neck and face grew warm, and he gave a shuddering laugh.

"So, I have a question for you," Roxanne began then, staring up through the leaves above them, watching the clouds as they drifted lazily across the periwinkle blue sky.

He narrowed his eyes at her in mock suspicion.

"Is this an interview Miss Ritchi? Should I have a law-yer present?" he asked and she sent a glance his way from the corner of her eye. Her nose wrinkled cutely while shadows played across her face, her bangs falling back from her face.

"No, you don't need a LAWYER," she corrected with a small frown that dimpled her chin, but the look faded quickly enough and she looked back up to the sky. "I just want to get to know you a bit more. Ask you some questions."

He flushed again, and turned onto his back more fully so he could watch the patchwork of light that passed through the green trees above them, turning them a brilliant vermillion hue. Awkwardly, he began to fiddle with his fingers, worrying his lower lip.

"Ah. Well. There's not much to know about me. I'm... simple. Very simple. Terribly boring, in fact. You shouldn't ask me any questions. None at all." Oh Lord, if she asked him questions, how would he answer? What other lies would he have to tell? His throat was suddenly dry, and his palms were sweating. He rubbed them against his thighs, hoping to work away the moisture, but sadly, the sweat was under his gloves, hidden behind a hologram of a man he really wasn't. No amount of rubbing them against the khakis Bernard wore would ever whisk away the clammy feeling.

"Don't be scared, Bernard," she soothed him, wrinkling her brow with some concern. Her hand snaked into his, and she rubbed her fingers gently against the pulse point on his wrist, where she could no doubt feel his heart beating furiously like a caged animal.

"It's not like I'm interrogating you! Here, why don't we play a sort of 20 Questions game?"

"20 Questions?" he asked squeakily, looking at her, relaxing slightly as she massaged his wrist in slow circles. The heat was still there, coursing up his arm and making the rest of him feel cold, so goose bumps rose on his skin. If she kept touching him like that, he'd agree to do anything, as he was lulled into closing his eyes slightly, a dreamy smile claiming his lips.

She kept stroking his hand and wrist, fingers dancing up his arm inch by inch while she spoke.

"Yea. I ask a question, then you can ask a question to me. We go back and forth for 20 questions. How does that sound?" she asked softly.

The warmth of the scattered sun, the smell of fresh air and cut grass, and the slow soothing pressure of her fingers working magic on his forearm had him grinning lazily.

"Yea... that sounds great," he purred dumbly, and then her fingers stopped.

"Great!" she said in a suddenly chipper voice, her hand leaving his while she turned onto her side, watching him eagerly. The abruptness of her shift made him snap out of his stupor, blinking, and then wondering what the hell he'd just gotten himself into.

"I'll go first! Ok. Here's an easy one. What's your favourite colour?"

"Oh. Um, black. Although it's not really a colour. It's actually a shade." Did that still count? Should he change his answer?

"Really? I've never seen you wear black before... In fact, all I've ever seen you wear is this blazer and that blue turt-"

"MY TURN! What's your favourite colour?" he interrupted, his voice catching in panic.

"Red."

He hoped she'd say blue.

"Ok. What's your favourite animal?"

"Spee-iders." And then he began to cough loudly, his face turning dark red as he began to hyperventilate, especially at the shocked look of recognition on her face.

"...What did you just say?" she whispered.

"Sorry! My voice cracked! I said Spiders. HAH! So thirsty. All that sun!" he laughed loudly, hurriedly grabbing water and drinking it greedily, watching her from the corner of his eye. She narrowed her gaze on him, sitting up to watch him drink.

"You... remind me of someone."

"HAHAHA really?" he squeaked, spluttering out water, so he had to madly swipe at his shirt to clean up the mess.

"Yea... It's weird," she frowned, tilting her head as if to try and place where she knew him from.

"OK MY TURN AGAIN! My, this is FUN! Ok. Your favourite animal!"

"You can't just keep asking me the same question that I ask you, Bernard," she chided, but with a sigh, she settled back against the blanket again and answered simply.

"I like dogs."

"Really? I have dogs. Sort of."

"Yea? I'll have to come over to see them sometime."

"Oh... that will be quite impossible. They're...not well trained. They're dangerous."

"Oh. I see. Hmm, well. Next question. What's your favourite food?"

"Powdered doughnuts" he said instantly, grinning. "Especially the ones with the filling inside? Mmm..."

"Bernard, I never knew you had a sweet tooth," she chuckled and then gave him a poke. "Your turn. And don't just ask the same one I asked," she warned, pointing a finger at him.

"Alright Miss Pushy Reporter... Do you... like sweets?"

"Oh come on. That's almost exactly like the question I just asked you. Oh, don't pout... Fine. Yes, I like sweets. I've also got a big addiction to salty things though. Like olives. I LOVE olives."

"Really? Well, I shall remember that for the future! Your turn."

"Do you have any siblings?"

"No," he answered simply before moving on without a second thought. "What was your favourite toy as a child?" he asked after a moment of thought, suddenly curious about her years as a youth; as a normal youth. Her question about siblings had brought back memories of his own childhood, and for once, he wanted to learn what a NORMAL childhood had been like. With a brown haired little Roxanne, optimistic about the world.

"Ahh, easy question. My Easy Bake Oven," she giggled and he raised an eyebrow.

"What, no child-sized camera? Battery operated microphone?"

"Nope, just delicious brownies and lemon cake," she laughed softly. "I was a regular Susie Homemaker, baking up a storm for all my friends and my parents. It was easy with just a little light bulb and the convenient packages. I'm not so skilled with a real oven."

"Huh. I never would have thought," he admitted with a little smirk.

"What about you? Favourite toy?"

"Hey! You just told me I was not permitted to re-use a question!"

"I made up the game, I control the rules. Favourite Toy. Answer," she commanded imperiously and he rolled his eyes, frowning at her. He didn't much like taking commands from others, but he melted a bit at the adorable way she raised her chin up in the air, closing her eyes as if she didn't care what he, or anyone else thought. She was so cute!

"Fine, Bossy Lady. I had... a binky."

"A binky?"

"Soother. Pacifier. Whatever you like to call it."

"That was your favourite toy? Probably as a baby, but what about when you got older?"

"Isn't it MY turn to ask a question?"

"Two-part question. Again, my game, my rules."

"Fine. I... I had a Mi-... A pet fish. In a bowl. He was my favourite possession."

"Awww! That's so cute! I can totally see you as a little kid, talking to a goldfish!" she smiled and he smiled back, chuckling a little to himself. The only things wrong with her description was probably her assumption about the skin colour of the little boy, and the fact that the fish actually talked back. Goldfish indeed.

"Is it my turn now, or are you going to instigate another loophole in your shoddy rules?" he drawled, turning his head to fix her with a sceptical look, one eyebrow raised while staring at her over the edge of his glasses. She shot him a dark look back, which he smiled at.

"Why reporting?" he probed and she blinked a bit.

"Why reporting? Hmm, good question sir. Touché," she muttered, and raked her hand back through her hair, sighing. He watched the strands fall back into place, flickering in the light like sun glinting off of rippling water. He edged a little closer to her on the blanket, hoping to catch a small whiff of her shampoo and perfume.

"Well, I guess I wanted to make a name for myself. I have always been interested in people's stories and especially issues of justice. Journalism just seemed like a natural fit," she began, shrugging her shoulders with a soft sigh. She continued to stare up, her eyes tracking the white puffs of clouds that slowly ventured over the sky above them, sending shadowy shapes across the green grass when they drifted in front of the sun.

"Admittedly, I didn't do so well in the actual schooling part. It was too stale for me. So I knew I could never write actual articles for a newspaper. So instead, I went into broadcasting. Something just clicked. It was exciting and I felt like I was making a difference! Naturally I had to work hard to pull myself out of the fluff pieces, but when you actually get to report on something new, exciting and meaningful... There's no way to describe it," she said, her eyes shining. He had to prop himself up on his elbows to look down at her, watching the expressions that fell across her face. He saw the passion and excitement she described, and a brilliant smile claimed her lips.

He couldn't deny that her energy was infectious. Hence why he had always felt just a little bit honoured that she was the one reporting on all of his important inventions and dastardly plans. She was gifted in her presentation, and it obviously brought her an extreme amount of joy and pride. It lit up her features, made her chest swell with purpose, and a determined gleam came into her blue eyes. And when she turned that look onto him, his heart skipped a beat.

"I've always dreamed of becoming a Network Anchor," she said resolutely after a slight pause and her face was such a study of clear conviction and with the sun causing her hair to shine like a halo, he couldn't help himself.

"You're so beautiful," he blurted and she gave a start, staring up at him.

"Thank you," she managed in a soft little voice, a small smile accompanying the phrase. His face burned with a blush, but he was pleased she'd reacted well to his outburst. How could he have not said it? Seeing her joy, seeing her passion, seeing her purpose for life, spread out for him clear as day on her face? And the way she looked physically; cheeks vibrant with colour, eyes dancing and full of life, rosy lips curled in a smile that barely seemed contained on her face, and that hair of a Goddess, fanning out around her face... She was a vision.

"So," she began, clearly embarrassed based on the colour of her freckled cheeks. She brushed her hair back from her forehead and tucked it behind her ear. "You asked me why reporting, so I'll ask you, why study Megamind and Metro Man?"

"Oh." Yes, Bernard studied heroes and villains, and was the curator the Metro Man Museum (or what was left of it). Naturally, Bernard would have some motivation for this. But what would that be? He struggled to find an answer that sounded appropriate.

"Well. I... enjoy studying the epic battle between good and evil. And Megamind is one of the most powerful, intelligent and handsome super villains of all time! So he is VERY interesting to study."

"Hmm. I guess that makes some sense. Must get a bit depressing though," she muttered, wrinkling her nose again, so the freckles on her cheeks winked at him and shifted across her face.

"Not really. Tell me what your worst story that you ever had to cover was," he then asked quickly to change the subject away from him. Depressing would be a bit of an understatement if she ever got a hold of a REAL biography of his life.

She suddenly began to laugh.

"Oh, you'll love this... Picture it: A Cat Fashion Show."

"No. No, there is no conceivable way such a thing exists."

"It does, and I reported on it. My first gig as a spunky new graduate... Ok, you don't have to laugh THAT loudly."

"I'm sorry! I can't help it!" he gasped and wheezed for breath, curling into himself to support his belly laugh. His laughter had started as a snort, turned into a titter, then a chuckle, then a laugh, and finally a full out guffaw. His imagination ran wild with kittens dressed in suits, full grown cats waddling their way across a stage in tutus. Tails wagging and swaying while they took their little turn on the cat walk. CAT WALK! The humour was too much. The pun nearly killed him. And poor Roxanne, fresh faced and ready for the world, no doubt standing in rage and humiliation that her dreams of reporting on current news was reduced to some human-interest story about kittens in mittens. He could practically see the indignant look at her face. He snorted all the louder.

"Wanna know what my sign off was?"

"I don't - HAHAHA- I don't know if I could handle it!" he panted.

She sat up, gripping a water bottle in one hand while staring forward at some imaginary camera, her face a study in pure professionalism.

"And just for today, fashion curiosity did NOT... kill the cat," she stated in her most serious of reporting voices and Megamind howled with laughter, clutching his stomach and rolling back and forth on the blanket while she soon joined him, tears forming at the corners of her eyes.

"Omig—Omigod, that is the most ridiculous sentence I have ever heard in my entire life!" he whined, trying to find his voice between peels of giggles.

"I know! Wasn't it awful?"

"I cannot believe I missed that broadcast! I will have to go back through my archives to try and find this spectacular moment of news history!"

"Wait, archives? ... You mean to tell me you've watched all my reports?" she asked, wiping her eyes and staring at him.

He stopped laughing, his expression turning to shock and then humiliation. He cleared his throat, and tried to straighten his blazer as if to busy himself. Then he looked up at her miserably.

"Maybe."

"Bernard," she asked in a slow voice, narrowing her eyes with a wicked smile playing on her lips. "Did you have a Reporter Crush on me?"

"What... would you say if I did?" he asked, sticking his chin up a bit defensively, but the red heat growing on his neck had her dissolving into giggles again.

"I'd say you are just the sweetest thing I've ever seen..."

"Sweeter than a Cat Fashion Show?"

"That wasn't sweet. It was traumatizing."

"Ah, still. A worthy first assignment for a budding reporter such as yourself."

"Ah, shut it. How about you? What was your worst job ever?"

"Assembly line. Making license plates. Terribly monotonous. A waste of my talents, really."

"Huh. I hear that's one of the jobs they give prisoners usually."

"NOPE. Normal people too. Super normal people, like me. Because I am normal. Very normal. My turn now. Ok, tell me your biggest fear."

"Living the rest of my life alone," she said softly after watching him for an intense moment. Quiet reigned between them and she glanced up at him. "You?"

"Dying alone," he replied without hesitation, avoiding her eyes while he stared forward.

"Isn't that the same as mine?"

"No, there is a distinction. You fear the process of living the rest of your life alone. I KNOW I will be alone. Living alone is not something I worry about. What I fear is the whole dying part, with the knowledge that my entire life I have been alone. And there was nothing I could do to change that. You at least have hope to change. My death will assuredly be a lonely one."

"Bernard... That's... so sad," she whispered, leaning forward to set her hand on his shoulder, pain reflected on her face.

"Yes. Well. I've made peace with it, I suppose. But for you, this must be a new fear. I can't imagine you ever thinking you'd be alone. Especially when you were with Metro Man," he said and then regretted it the instant the words escaped his lips. He cringed at the expression on her face and raised his hands in defence. To bring up her fallen boyfriend at such a time? Very smooth. Originally, Minion had had to explain to him that Roxanne would be heartbroken over Metro Man's death, but since that time he'd come to understand it. And yet, here he was, pouring salt into her emotional wounds.

"I apologize. That was cruel."

"No, it's ok. Actually, I should probably explain..." And she gave a soft melodic laugh at his confused expression. She laid back against the blanket again, playing with her fingers on one hand while she pursed her lips.

"Metro Man and I... were never a couple."

He sat up quickly, his eyes wide.

"But I thought you two were..." he began but she shrugged and smiled a bit.

"I know. Everybody did. But, he was never really my type," she said, her half smile highlighting her cheek bones.

"Really," he said with a slowly expanding grin. Not her type.

What was it about Metro Man that she'd disliked? Was it the thick set, muscle-head body type? The dashing good looks, perfect hair and blindingly white teeth? If so, then he was in the clear. He was NOTHING like that. His frame was slim, lacking the sheer muscle volume that Metro Man boasted. That didn't mean Megamind was devoid of muscle and was as weak as he seemed. Oh no. He could hold his own, quite well. He'd have to, to be able to suffer as many beatings as he had in his life time.

But if it was the smarmy, self-assured over confidence that turned Roxanne off from the hero of Metro City, then... Megamind was a little screwed. He could be called many things, but modest was not one of them. He thought he was pretty awesome, all things considered. As Bernard, he sometimes stumbled over his words and seemed to be shocked and terrified by the world around him, but that wasn't a lack of confidence. It was more a genuine inability to blend in with the normal civilian life, which caused his over active mind and body to twitch with anxiety.

Plus, Roxanne just left him as a big puddle of a man because of the way she had a hold on him without even trying.

And now, his mind swam with possibilities.

She had never cared for Metro Man. They had never been a couple. Somehow, this made her seem so much more available. Not that the thought had ever crossed his mind that he was in some way moving in on Metro Man's girl. But now, it changed the tone of all of his past kidnappings. All the flirting. All the coy smiles. All the banter. He hadn't been tying up a taken woman. He'd been holding the very single, very available Roxanne Ritchi hostage. Wrapping her slim wrists in rope. Tethering her to a chair. Leaning over her and sneering in her face. Whispering dark and devious things to her while keeping her captive, like his own private play thing.

A pleased shudder ran through his body as he thought over the possibilities and implications of what that transformed their meetings into. Oh geez. It was suddenly very warm despite the cooling breeze that swept through the park.

"Ok, now you tell me something you've never told anyone," she was saying though, interrupting his thoughts. Her voice was low, and secretive, as if she was giving this moment a great amount of ceremony and respect, and although the husky tone of her voice only helped to increase his sexual fantasies, he forced himself to focus.

She sat up, looking down at him while he remained laying down, his hands set on his stomach.

He ignored the fact it wasn't really a question. She wasn't playing by the rules very often during this 20 Questions session, so he let it slide. She seemed to enjoy bending and breaking the laws of her little game, and it made her even more attractive to him. But he paused at the statement itself.

Something he'd never told anyone.

There were lots of things he'd never told anyone. Even Minion. He wasn't exactly an open book to many people. Especially with her. He'd kept all of their interactions light, and surface deep only. Any things he confessed to her were somehow mixed in with lies and omissions. The more lies he used, the more he had to remember, and the more he had to watch what he said. But something pulled at him that day.

Maybe it was the sun filtering through the screen of leaves above. Maybe it was the gentle laughter of the couples and children frolicking in the park. It could have been the scent of fresh grass, the flowers, the nature and the sweet breeze that ruffled her hair across her brow, making her reach to comb it back.

Or maybe it was just her. The encouraging smile on her lips. The interested gleam in her deep blue eyes. The smell of her perfume. The sunny yellow of her short sleeved shirt giving her skin a healthy glow. The way she settled down onto the checkered blanket beside him, close enough to touch.

Whatever it was, he dropped his defences. And he let her in.

"Well, in sh- school," he corrected with a small stutter before continuing on. "None of the other kids really liked me. I was always the last one picked for everything," he said simply, letting some of the hurt and alienation of his youth come through in his voice. It wasn't much, but it was more than he'd ever admitted to anyone.

He felt her shift beside him, and for one terrifying second, he thought maybe she was moving away from him, putting more space between her and the school-house reject. But then, he felt her shoulder brush his, her fingers finding his hand and squeezing it gently.

"Hmm," she began, a small smile on her lips as she gazed into his eyes, their foreheads nearly touching. "It's too bad we didn't go to the same school."

His heart grew in size, and he couldn't stop the goofy, love struck smile from spreading on his face, as he leaned just enough to press his head against hers, feeling her hair tickle his flesh.

"What about you? What was school like for you?" he asked after dreamily staring into her eyes. She crinkled her nose adorably and then whispered into his ear. His brain left the building as soon as her breath fell on the sensitive spot, chills racing up his spine and making him inhale sharply.

"I had braces," she admitted with a snuffle of laughter, burying her face against his neck as if to hide with humiliation. He was too busy holding his breath while pleasure flooded his mental capacities to really pay attention to her sentence for the first dozen seconds. Her lips were practically on his neck so he could feel her smile, her breath puffing against his flesh.

His eyes nearly rolled back in his head in ecstasy.

"B...Braces?" he managed, so glad he was laying down, otherwise his legs would have given out. Her hair was flush against his cheek and jaw, its texture like water and silk and feathers and everything else magical and soft and sultry in the world.

"Yea. I got teased a little bit. We could have been friends, you and I. Fought off all the bullies together." She finally set her head back against the blanket, smirking at him, so he was able to breathe again and see straight. He took a few slow breaths, and a deep swallow before he dared to speak.

"I would have liked that."

"Me too. I imagine we could have been good friends."

"Perhaps." Megamind doubted it, but he liked the thought nonetheless.

"Ok... last few questions, right?"

"This is your last, and then I get one more," he responded quickly. She seemed impressed by his memory and fast calculation. He was too, given the dramatic sensation of blood leaving his skull mere seconds before.

"Hmm, last question, eh? Better make it a good one. So. What makes you happy, Bernard?"

"You." The word flew from his lips, unbidden and he cringed, waiting for it to hit, like knowing he'd accidentally activated a bomb, but could only brace himself for the inevitable explosion.

"Well... I'm glad. I like it when you're happy."

"Ah... haha, me too. Me too... My question I guess."

She nodded simply, tilting her head to watch him expectantly.

"Roxanne... Do you... enjoy my company?" A bubble of anxiety formed in his chest.

"Yes," she smiled.

"Ah. That's good. Very good." He smiled thankfully, and relaxed, letting his hand intertwine their fingers, squeezing their palms together in blissful union.

Nothing could ruin that spark of joy he felt hearing that one word. Yes.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes: **Epic sadness below. The dinner date! Filled with loving angsty goodness. Thanks for reading everyone! Hope you enjoy. Next chapter coming up soon.  
**Disclaimer:** 'Megamind' and all its characters are owned by _Dreamworks. _I own nothing.

* * *

**Falling Before Her Eyes**

_Chapter 7_

* * *

He was nervous. He was shaking, sweating, trembling, perspiring, and any other words to describe the fact that he was one terrible mess. He was as always relieved that his disguise didn't show the purple and fuchsia blush that now stained his neck, ears and cheeks. He could feel the heat rising, unbearable under his collar, making him pick a finger under the turtle neck to peel it away from his skin. At least that's what Bernard looked like he was doing. Beneath the hologram, Megamind was trying in vain to pull the spandex collar of his black suit away from his blue skin, and was forced to let it fall back with a sharp snap of elasticity. He cringed at the bite of the material slapping on his long neck, and he rubbed the spot, glad he didn't bruise that easily, otherwise a purple-black mark would have stood out like a neon sign against the baby-blue of his flesh. It'd look like a peculiar, long hickey.

And he was saving that experience for Roxanne.

Not that she'd ever be leaving a mark on his blue skin. She'd do it on Bernard's pale, pink neck. He needed to do some upgrading on the disguise generating watch so that it could accurately simulate something like that. He mentally put a pin in that for later consideration. First things first, she had to show up for dinner.

He checked the face of his watch nervously, looking at the zig-zagging shape of the clock hands as they pointed out the time. The seconds ticked by around the circle, breezing slowly past 9:35 and into 9:36.

Roxanne had been late once or twice, but never THIS late. And especially on their first major date that he himself had organized. Normally, she'd been the one to suggest activities. The park, bike riding, the cafe. Not since the art gallery had Megamind taken the reigns and suggested an activity. She had seemed so excited for tonight. Her eyes had lit up, and she'd coyly brushed her hair from her face, flushing with pleasure when he'd announced they would dine at one of the fancier, more romantic restaurants in the city. He'd been so sure that she was happy about the choice. All his research had said it would surely impress her. Had Urban Spoons led him astray? Damn you, you condemnable application!

Even without the program's helpful advice and amusing interface, Megamind was sure that this would be a good place. The atmosphere was perfect. Soft candle light shuddered and reflected off the crystal stemware and gleaming cutlery on the white linen covered table. Subdued lighting made the red draped walls scream of sensuality and comfort. Spotlights of a soft gold were intersecting on the walls to form the shapes of a hazy hearts. The conversations buzzed around him softly, making the table in the center of the room still seem private in the cocoon of soft sound.

Sure, there was a baby at a table near theirs (What parenting school had these people gone to, bringing an infant to a fancy restaurant at such a late hour?), but the little creature had seemed content in its highchair and was hardly making a peep. Megamind still glared at the child, as if daring it to make a sound that would disturb his evening. Children normally screamed when around him.

Luckily, infants rarely cried out in fear around Bernard. The perks of being human.

But the baby crying wouldn't really matter at all if Roxanne never showed up. Had she forgotten? Had she stood him up? Ice settled in his stomach, coursing through his veins and he swallowed loudly. Maybe Minion had been right to warn him about all this.

The fish had stormed out in a flurry of emotion after discovering that Megamind was going on yet another date. He accused him of forgetting his goals. Of falling in love... The fight still made Megamind feel ill, remembering the hurt and pain on his friend's face while he fled the lair. Left him, standing alone. And now, with no Roxanne in sight, he had the sinking feeling that the fish could be onto something. The bad guy doesn't get the girl. The bad guy is left with no Minion, and no Roxanne.

No, he shook his head, frowning.

She hadn't forgotten and wasn't standing him up. He'd talked to her just hours before and she had gushed with excitement over the phone, asking him what he thought she should wear.

Clothes, he'd replied without a bit of humour in his voice and she'd laughed into the phone, called him silly and promised to meet him at 9:00 for dinner. She was coming. She was. Women took longer to get ready, or so he'd read online and in those magazines at the grocery store front counter. They liked to prolong the waiting, so he'd be twitching with anticipation upon her arrival.

It was definitely working.

He had to do something with his hands to keep them from shaking, so he smoothed the white table cloth, shifted the candle in front of him, and lined up his cutlery and plate to almost perfect measurements. Naturally, he eyeballed the symmetry, but wondered if he should bring out a tape measure just to be sure. He moved the candle one more time, then eyed the curled black wick within that had been extinguished. He cast a glance around himself, slowly pulled the candle against his chest and then quick as a flash unsheathed his De-Gun, firing off a short blast into the wax until a flame erupted once again. He set it down with his lips pursed, eyes still nervously looking around himself to check for witnesses.

No one moved, and the conversation remained fluid and droning around him. The baby didn't scream. He released a slow sigh, and was about to check his watch again for the forty-second time since he'd sat down when he caught the scent of her perfume seconds before she glided into his view.

She was breathless and gasping as she slid into her seat, and his mind raced to categorize everything about her appearance. Her dress was spectacular, though he didn't know how to describe it much beyond that it was purple, and had a ruffled neck that went high around her nape, something he could really appreciate given his own choices in attire. Her slim freckled shoulders looked pale and smooth in the low lighting, and there was a surprising amount of skin open at her throat and he could see the delicate curve of her collar bone. Her eyes glimmered and shone with that same sort of wonder-lust and adrenaline thrill he'd see back after their exciting time in the Lair when she'd blown up a half dozen of his Brain-Bots. And then his eyes travelled further up...

Great Scott, her hair was exciting! And he said as much, which she just chuckled at. The strands were blown straight back from her face, similar to how they had been after the blast which defeated Metro Man. But this current arrangement had a more windblown look to it, as if she'd been driving in a convertible at break-neck speeds for about four hours non-stop. And there was her glorious, wide and tall forehead for his enjoyment, freckles blinking at him as the candle flickered from the gust of air she sighed out as she sat. He loved the gentle slope of her hairline, and the faintest little widow's peak at its center. With her hair at its current height, he could almost imagine that her head resembled his for once. All forehead and great sweeping height. And that thought made him feel like he should be crossing his legs, if it weren't for the white tablecloth draped across his lap. Although he liked her the way she was, one couldn't blame him for brief fantasies of a pale freckled blue skin, gleaming silver-blue eyes and a glorious cranium. Then again, she wouldn't have hair. That was a sad thought. Yes, he liked her the way she was.

Although maybe he wanted her not to be QUITE so smart and nosy reporter-ish.

All of a sudden, she was talking excitedly, her hand gesturing and waving through the air as she started a narrative that had him choking, blubbering, going pale, and going hot all at once. Titan. She'd met Titan, formerly Hal Stewart. He'd shown up at her apartment, just as she was deciphering the pictures that she had taken of all of Megamind's ideas from the Lair. She had figured out Megamind's plan. He'd missed getting his butt-kicked so he'd created a new superhero. It made so much sense, she ranted.

He tried to drink the glass of water that the serving staff brought him, but he promptly spit the liquid back into the cup with a gagging sound, trying to restrain himself from any evil sort of outburst.

It was so much more complex than that! She was simplifying things too much! He didn't miss getting his keister pummelled every other day. What masochistic person would enjoy that? No, it was about purpose! About having a reason to live! About a challenge! There was no match for him intellectually anywhere in the world, but Metro Man had at least had the brawn to destroy his creations, which meant Megamind had to constantly search for ways to negate his powers. That was a challenge! It was his job! How would she feel if suddenly no news ever happened? She'd probably create some news in order to report on it too...

He wanted to slam his fists into the table and explain it all to her, and to set her straight, especially when she claimed the Hal Stewart was the worst person to give powers to.

How dare she!

That was Fate's doing! He had no control over it! He hadn't chosen for the powers to be given to her chubby little cameraman, but he'd worked with what he was given and tried to make the best of it. And all she could do was condemn and criticize.

Sure, there were days when Megamind doubted Titan as much as she did right now. He was thick-headed, vicious, and with a moral compass that never seemed to be able to find polarized North. But he was learning. He would fight Megamind and it would all fall into place. He just needed time.

Fearing he would lose his cool and start to say all of these things, he tried to focus on the adorable curl that stuck out in the top left corner of her hair, and staring at the strands brought his stress down considerably.

No, tonight he was Bernard. Not Megamind. And Bernard wanted a relaxing dinner with Roxanne. He just had to shut her up long enough for her to realize she wanted the same thing. She was so like him at times, it was frightening. Her manic enthusiasm. Her passion. He had to put her off guard to make her drop this line of questioning.

And the best way to do that was to romance the pants off her sexy little legs.

If she were wearing pants. Which she wasn't. But if she was, she'd totally lose her pants to his fantastic abilities to charm the garments off of females. A previously unexplored talent, until tonight.

He smiled dreamily and took a hold of the flute of sparkling champagne at his right, raising the glass towards her. He tried on his most suave smile, his eyes warm and approving when they looked at her.

"You know, I'm sure we'll get to the bottom of who's kicking whose butt... But in the meantime, let's enjoy each other's company," he said softly, and she blinked, flushing a little in embarrassment, but a sigh came from her lips as she accepted the glass, offering him an apologetic smile.

"I'm sorry Bernard. Of course, you're right," she giggled softly. "I could use a breather. To Bernard, for being the only normal thing in my crazy upside down world," she smiled, raising her glass toward him in a toast.

He mimicked the movement, his heart squeezing in his chest.

Normal. She thought he was the only thing normal in her life.

"To... being normal," he intoned, clicking his glass against hers with a soft ring, wishing with all his heart as he took a sip of the bubbling liquid, that he was as normal as she thought he was. Oh how he wished for it. He knew now, more than ever, that she wouldn't be with him in his true form.

She said she judged by actions, and that left him at a severe disadvantage. While Bernard had a clean slate, Megamind had a laundry list of life sentences under his belt that she'd never be able to look past. Even if she could accept him, blue skin and lanky frame aside, she'd hate him for everything else that made up his character. She'd find no redeeming factor.

So he wished, and prayed, and willed the God's above to show him some mercy. Let that tiny clink of glasses signal a miracle coming; that he really was normal. That being Megamind was all a bad dream, but being Bernard was his real life. That he was normal for even one night in his pathetic life. That he wasn't just wearing a disguise, but that he really was Bernard and was sharing a romantic dinner with Roxanne, his partner. And they'd be able to go back to his normal apartment afterward, and he'd be able to smooth his hands through her riotous hair like a normal man might. And he could believe that it was really him, as Bernard, who she thought was her solace in a world that tossed her around like a rag doll. And he'd feel the same for her, truthfully, wholly, and without guilt because there were no lies. They were meant to be together. Nothing was there to stop them.

No deception. No disguises. No blue skin and giant heads. No evil schemes or jail time. Just them. In love and happy.

So much did he want that to be true, that he let the little voice take over again. The one that told him to cling to this freedom and this happiness with an iron grip and never let go. Never think about the consequences. Just enjoy.

And that's why, when her eyes changed, when her face registered something like attraction, he didn't hesitate to bridge the distance between them across the table. He didn't stop when their mouths were inches apart and he could smell the sweetness of the alcohol on her breath. He didn't stop when he flicked his green gaze from her eyes down to those lips that parted ever so slightly, glossy and red in the flickering candle light. And he didn't stop when he tilted his head just a fraction to kiss her, tasting heaven and champagne and lip gloss.

They kissed. It was sweet, simple, pure and holy. All things he wasn't. And for several thumping heartbeats, he was able to imagine that he really was normal. And that Roxanne Ritchi, beautiful, perfect, extraordinary Roxanne Ritchi had chosen him out of a city full of bachelors. And evidently, over Metro Man as well, if she was being truthful in saying their affair had been the product of the rumour mill.

God, his life was perfect.

He closed his eyes to savour the feel of her mouth on his, of the sudden flush of emotion and understanding that seemed to come along with this innocent heartfelt kiss. He could feel her lips curve into the slightest of smiles, her fingers stroking along his hand and up his wrist. The movement sent a flash of colour blurring around him and he swore he heard the zap of his heart disintegrating. This kiss was perfect. It was everything he'd ever dreamed. So fantastic was it, that he was literally seeing sparks.

Then, her mouth changed.

He wasn't all that skilled in the kissing department, but he could feel the differences slowly seep through his hormone soaked brain as lips that were once soft, plump and pliable turned frigid, tight and sharp.

Noise filtered to his ears. Gasps. The clatter of cutlery. Roxanne's increased breathing. Then, a baby's scream.

He opened his eyes to stare into hers, which were wide and panicked, switching from pain to confusion to rage and back again. Then she was tearing her mouth from his violently, as if she were burned, those heavenly lips turning into a scowl. Her hands were on his chest, shoving him back into his chair as she stood. Her chair tipped and clattered to the ground and she was panting with a wild look on her face.

"What?" he asked, panic gripping his throat, his chest burning where she'd shoved him, and he looked down at the spot where her palms had made contact with his blue lightning bolt stamped suit and spiked shoulder pads.

Wait, what?

NO!

Understanding blossomed on his face and he stared up at her while the earth crumbled around him. Or he wished it had. If the floor opened up and swallowed him, it would be less painful than seeing the way she had one arm raised, as if to ward him off, her face a complicated melody of betrayal and disgust.

"Wait! Don't look at me!" he shouted, and madly reached for his watch. The watch! She'd touched it and de-activated the thing! He was sitting in the exclusive downtown restaurant as Megamind, the entire populace of the establishment looking away from him in terrified obedience to his shouted command. All except Roxanne, who was staring with her mouth open.

His fingers were shaking and seemed useless in doing what he wanted them to do. Humiliation flooded his mental capacities and his face was fuchsia against blue skin, sweat easily snaking down his high temples. Flash after flash of imagery came from the watch, disguise after disguise concealing him. Was it three turns? Two turns? He couldn't even remember what sequence would bring Bernard into view. Finally, he saw a skin colour that looked remotely right, but when he turned to her and prayed she might have some sort of temporary amnesia and would just carry on like normal, he knew he had the wrong disguise enabled as soon as the Brando like accent fell from his lips.

He winced as she tossed the flute of sparkling champagne onto him, and the bubbling sweet liquid caused the watch to give one final whine and spark of exertion before powering down for good and he was left wide eyed and sticky, staring at her. He hunched in on himself, devastated.

"You!" she managed between clenched teeth, tears brimming in her eyes before she hurriedly stood and fled the restaurant.

"WAIT! Roxanne, please!" he begged, standing up in a flash that sent his chair toppling. The whole restaurant gave a gasp and they all seemed to dive out of the way, which startled the evil genius into tripping over himself in his haste to chase after his date. He stumbled into an adjacent table, causing it to upend. Pasta, wine and candles clattered to the floor. The woman seated at that table let out an ear-piercing scream, directly beside his head which sufficiently disoriented the big-skulled man into reaching for his De-Gun and turning it on her in threat. The screaming continued and now the whole restaurant was a rush of movement, panic and rioting. Women and men yelled in horror, scrambling for the exit, babies screamed, and Megamind shouted his frustration, roughly pushing people aside until he finally found the exit and stumbled out into the drizzle that had begun to fall from the sky.

He looked left and right, quickly, and spotted her retreating back. He dashed for her.

"Please, Roxanne! Wait! I can explain, I promise!" he started miserably, and she whipped her head around at the sound of his voice, eyes wide and flashing. The rain was speckling the soft fabric of her dress, beads trailing onto her bare shoulders. Her hair, once wildly blown, was beginning to droop as the water fell faster and faster.

"Explain? EXPLAIN?" she shrieked and he recoiled from her, eyes wide.

"How long has Bernard been... YOU?" she asked, gesturing to him like he were a piece of trash.

"I...Since the museum, that night. The elevator," he confessed, looking off to the side. He could have lied. Said it was just tonight that he was tricking her. He would have been able to walk away with her just thinking she'd fallen in love with Bernard, and Megamind was just trying another evil scheme. He could go back to pretending to be Bernard again tomorrow, acting as if it was all Megamind's evil plan and he'd been kidnapped or something.

But no. He couldn't lie anymore. Not to her. It hurt too much.

He looked up to gauge her reaction to his truthful words.

She placed a shaking hand to her mouth, strands of dripping hair slowly falling across her face as thunder rumbled softly in the distance. Her lips worked, as if trying to find a way to form syllables, but she kept making soft noises instead. Her chest rose and fell quickly, her eyes swimming with liquid that wasn't from the rain. He saw her shoulders begin to tremble.

His whole body felt like it was dunked in freezing water, and his chest was within a vice, squeezing and squeezing so he couldn't breathe.

"This... whole time?" she gasped softly, a sob shaking her slim frame again and he couldn't stop himself. He bridged the distance between them, wrapping his hands around her shoulders and standing close to her.

"Oh Roxanne, don't cry. Please don't cry," he begged in a weak whisper, his voice breaking at the sight of the tears that boiled out of the corners of her eyes.

She flicked her gaze to his hands, lightning erupting in her crystal blue eyes as she took in a deep shuddering breath. He hurriedly pulled his hands away, realizing his mistake. He wasn't Bernard. He had no right to touch her anymore.

"You killed him," she whispered softly after she'd gathered herself enough to speak again, hand still pressed to her lips, to hide the trembling of both.

"What?" he asked softly, confused. "Metro Man?"

"You killed them both!" she shrieked in response. He struggled to keep up, gripping the sides of his head and madly darting his eyes along the sidewalk as if it might answer his questions. Killed someone? Who had he killed? He normally avoided the whole killing thing, much preferring to keep his subordinates alive so he could bask in their fear. And Metro Man... It had been a fluke. A mistake.

"What? I don't... I have no idea what you're talking about! I haven't killed anyone!"

"BERNARD!" she shouted, throwing her hands down at her side while her body convulsed with heavy sobs, foot stamping into a small puddle. "You killed him!" Her voice kept raising a pitch, switching to some sort of un-recognizable high-frequency that made Megamind's teeth rattle in the back of his head.

"I didn't kill Bernard! I dehydrated him!" He argued, pointing a finger at her. She stomped closer to him and he pulled back, clutching his hand against his chest.

"NO! You killed him! All this time, I've spent with him... Talked with him. Told him EVERYTHING! And now, it's... you! You killed him! And I was falling fo-... Oh god," she sobbed, her hands coming up to cover her face while she slowly began to sink down toward pavement, bawling openly into her palms.

The sound cut into his chest cavity, eviscerating him entirely. He felt a stinging sensation behind his eyes, and his vision swam with some sort of liquid.

Megamind understood. He hadn't physically killed anyone. But he had murdered the Bernard she knew. Or to be more correct, the idea of him. The Bernard she had been casually seeing, the one that he was acting as... that Bernard was now dead. Torn from Roxanne's life to be replaced with the harsh truth. That she had really been spending her time and investing her emotions in deplorable, despicable Megamind. The criminal she had been hating for years. The villain who had kidnapped her again and again. The evil entity that had ruined her city.

He had killed two men that she cared about now. First Metro Man, and now Bernard. The man she was falling for.

But it had been him all along. She'd been falling for him.

Didn't that count for something?

Cautiously, slowly, he inched toward her where she crouched in the rain, her body bent down in on itself, her dress darkening with water. He reached a hand out, as if to touch her hair and stroke the soaking strands away from her face, but she saw his boots as they entered her vision. Suddenly, her head flashed up, makeup smeared down her cheeks. Her whole face contorted, midway through a wail of agony and heartbreak, so her expression was one he'd never seen before, and it terrified him.

When she stood up just slightly, he thought maybe she was getting ready to yell at him again. Instead, her right arm pulled back, and her fist flew into his face.

His head snapped to the side, the force of it sending him stumbling back to trip over the edge of the sidewalk. With a splash, he was in the gutter, the taste of blood fresh on his tongue. His cheek throbbed with pain and he gingerly touched his offended jaw, flexing and trying to pop the bone into some form of comfortable position. Stars flew in front of his eyes and he tried to regain focus, giving his head one final shake before looking up at her.

But she wasn't there. He could hear the clip of her heels on the sidewalk, rapidly disappearing into the distance, but when he tried to look for which way she'd gone, the pouring rain blocked his view. And so did the crowds of onlookers with their umbrellas, staring gap-mouthed at the villain lying in the gutter, soaking wet, and with a swollen jaw.

He scrambled to his feet, gritting his teeth together while he tried to scan the streets for her. Damnit! For walking in those spindly little heels, she could apparently move quite quickly. And she also had a mean right hook.

He rubbed his cheek again, and then turned violently towards the group of civilians staring at him. They shrieked at the movement and dispersed, and he just snarled out his aggravation. Patting his belt desperately, he located the keys to the Invisible Car, pressing the remote so two lights flashed from an empty parking spot across the street, and the black glistening vehicle came into view. Rushing over, he slid across the hood of the Hudson Hornet, before scrambling to open the driver's side and slipping into the seat that wasn't at all designed for him. He almost tumbled into the back of the car, letting a string of expletives escape his lips as he glared at the half seat that made up the front driver's cockpit. The seat was barely even a third of the normal height it should be to support the spine, as it was designed to accommodate Minion's large suit and complex mechanics attached to his back. This made driving the car difficult for Megamind, but he would do it if need be.

The other thing that made it difficult for him to drive was his emotional state.

He dropped the keys four times.

He scratched the ignition with deep gauges as he violently tried to slam the keys into place.

Once he was finally able to find the proper hole and ram the key home, the car whined and sputtered when he turned it. He tried again. And again.

Then, he shrieked his rage, humiliation and sadness, tears burning and pricking the back of his eyes. He grabbed the steering wheel and beat the thing within an inch of its life, rocking the car back and forth until he was panting for breath and his eyes were bulging from his head. Then he turned the key and the engine roared to life. He slammed the car into gear and pulled forward while tromping on the gas harder than he needed to, so he was thrust back by the momentum and force of the acceleration. Which would have been fine, had he a full seat rest to lean into. But he didn't, so it merely had him painfully bending his back over upholstery that barely reached past his lower ribs.

But he could ignore that pain. The pain that hurt more was the sting of his jaw, and the ache in his chest.

God DAMNIT! Where had she gone? He needed to find her, to explain to her. To make her understand.

He drove up and down the rain soaked streets of Metro City. He didn't know how long he drove for, or how much of the city he covered in his search. He just continued to drive and drive and drive, and peer out into the rain, up and down streets and side streets. The wipers worked furiously to clear the deluge of water pouring from the heavens. All he could see through the sheets of rain was flashes of blue as the first downpour since he'd cleaned up the city fell on the dehydrated garbage. He cursed himself.

Band-aid solutions! That's all he'd been doing. That's why the garbage was now returning to the streets, because all he'd done was hide it. Not fix it. His entire life he seemed to be doing that. Covering things up and disguising the problem so he could ignore it. Like he'd done with Roxanne. He'd just put a disguise over himself, and hoped that she'd never see the problem. And just like all this garbage that was exploding out onto the streets in bursts of aqua sparkle, so had his disguise melted away tonight, leaving nothing but the undesirable trash within.

Him.

And forced to deal with the aftermath of his mistakes, the garbage and his deceit included, was Roxanne. And had she been walking maybe just a bit faster, he might have struck her as she suddenly appeared through the rain, arms wrapped around herself while walking slowly across the street. As it were, he slammed both his feet hard on the brake, feeling the car screech to a halt and shudder as the slick rain made it skid.

She looked up suddenly at the sound, her face contorting into recognition and then disgust, and she was spinning on her heel to walk back across the street well before he was even able to stumble out of the car door into the downpour.

"I can explain!" he shouted, arms outstretched, but she made a scoffing noise of disbelief, and continued to walk away from him, arms tight around her middle. She wasn't even going to give him the opportunity to explain? After all they'd been through together?

"What about everything you just said!" he countered suddenly, hurt making him defensive, sharp, accusatory. "About judging a book by its cover!"

She turned on him swiftly, marching right back toward him with fury and rage in her every movement. Her hair was well and totally drenched, clinging against chilled skin and splattering across her forehead haphazardly. Her mascara was thick and dark around her eyes, the rain blurring it into an intense coal outline that made her blue irises flare with colour.

"Well, let's take a look at the contents then, shall we?" she all but screamed now into his face, and he regretted provoking her. Water droplets flew from her bangs to speckle his face, and he tried to back away from her. She didn't bother to move the strands that hovered thickly over her eyes, and he tried to feel for the invisible car that might be coming up behind him soon as he scrambled backward. But she followed, shoving and pushing him with her hands for each of her viciously spat points.

"You destroyed Metro Man, you took over the city, and then you actually got me to care about you!"

Cringe, wince, flinch. He staggered back, trying to avoid looking at her pain filled eyes, letting her abuse him with her sharp jabs and pokes. He wanted to run. He also wanted to shout back at her. Would she have ever given him a chance if he'd tried to be with her any other way? No. She wouldn't have. For all her talk about books and covers, he doubted she'd have given him the time of day.

But that's because she'd expect him to do something just like this. To lie to her. To tear her heart apart. To kill her hero, destroy her town, and trick her into having feelings for him.

The last one seemed to give her the most anxiety, as she practically shrieked it, throwing her arms down at her side, before leaning close to him, narrowing her eyes while her brows turned down in an earnest expression of confusion. That look almost killed him, and he struggled to swallow the rising bile in his throat as wave after wave of guilt crushed over him. He couldn't even find pleasure in knowing she cared about him. How could he, seeing what pain he had caused her?

"Why are you so evil? Tricking me? What could you possibly hope to gain?" she asked finally, in a desperate tone, her shoulders slumping as if in defeat.

What had he hoped to gain?

Slowly, he looked up at her and he couldn't stop the truth from showing on his face. The desperate need for companionship. The aching emptiness that filled his chest. The crushed little boy desperate for acceptance. His eyes pleaded with her, his lips turned down in a dismal frown.

All he'd hoped to gain was her.

To have her smile at him like she did at Bernard. To hear her voice over the phone. To see her grin with glee while looking at her favourite painting. To laugh with her over dinner. To hold hands on a blanket under the trees. To kiss her. To run his fingers through her hair. To be with her. Wholly, completely, unabashedly. To love her.

And somehow, for her to love him back.

What had he hoped to gain?

Had Minion not asked him a similar question recently? And his response had been lies, cover ups. Delusions about using her to make his battle with Titan memorable. But who was he kidding? He'd fallen in love with her. He loved her, with every inch of his body and soul, but evidently not enough. He loved her in the selfish way of a child, where all that mattered was that she was his and no one else's. The love never translated into protecting her. Keeping her safe from hurt and harm. Like the kind he'd inflicted on her.

He didn't love her enough.

And she didn't love him at all.

He stared at her with all of these hopes, feelings and realizations on display in his expression, his soul bared to her.

And she did just what he expected her to do.

She stared at him, blue gaze roaming all over his face, taking in his eyes, his mouth, his brow. Then, slowly, her expression turned to disbelief. Disgust. Sarcastic dry humour. She gave a choking laugh.

"Wait a minute," she began, before she made a disparaging, sad noise in the back of her throat, her eyes going wide. "I don't believe this," she managed with a quick shake of her head.

"Did you really think I would ever be with you?" she then asked, in a breathless way.

His heart squeezed and then ceased to beat. The rain fell on him, sliding down the back of his neck and the sloping collar of his cape and collar. He continued to stare at her, watching her expression, her incredulity at the realization he loved her and thought for even one moment, in his stupid life, that she would ever return his affections.

"No," he whispered simply, truthfully. He never truly believed it, had he? He'd always known. But he'd let himself cling to some hope, some wish that if he just closed his eyes and hid under his disguises, like a child under the covers, he could ignore the boogie men lurking just outside.

But the dark cold rainy nights were always good at making those covers and blankets useless. In the rain storm, his shell was washed away to reveal the twisted, defective man beneath. The bad man who no one, especially Roxanne Ritchi, could love. The man she brushed past and walked away from without another word.

The bad guy doesn't get the girl.

He'd forgotten who he was. What he was. The rain had reminded him.

He was the bad guy.

And he didn't deserve the girl.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes: **Changed the rating on the story to reflect the epic amount of swears found in this chapter. I'm such a potty mouth in real life, that sometimes it sneaks into my writing. Nothing says good writing like dropping the F-Bomb... Either way, here is the Titan fight and a super non-canon car ride. Enjoy! Thanks to everyone for reviewing! Metro Man next chapter.  
**Disclaimer:** 'Megamind' and all its characters are owned by _Dreamworks. _I own nothing.

* * *

**Falling Before Her Eyes**

_Chapter 8_

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The subway train rattled along the tracks, clinking and clacking. Straps for passengers to hold as they rode swayed back and forth with the motion of the train cart, suspended from gleaming metal poles that made up the supports. Garbage rustled on the floor beneath red upholstered seats that were torn and frayed from overuse, the colour faded in the shapes of people's jeans. A discarded coffee cup rolled back and forth with each rock and rumble, the last droplets of creamy brown beverage turning sticky and dry on the dirty metal floor. Outside, advertisements flashed by through the windows, blurring into indiscernible garbles of images plastered on the sloping walls of the underground tunnel. And at the far end of the cart, a fluorescent light buzzed and flashed, casting dark shadows dancing on the lone figure who sat, bent forward with arms resting on his slim knees, in the seemingly abandoned subway car.

His attire was tattered, torn, and blood stained, dark bruises marring his lanky frame. He was engulfed in black, though with red gore speckling the surface of the torn full body suit, it was turning more of a muddy brown. The frayed remains of a cape hung around thin long shoulders, attached to thick shoulder pads dotted with large silver spikes. Or what was left of them. There were multiple holes and tears in the shoulder coverings where the embellishments had violently been ripped out. Those studs that remained were bent, dented, or flattened down into the cushioning and black fabric below them. A high collar extended from the back of his neck, merely a frame with fabric dangling limply from the spindly boning. Black gloves highlighted with electric blue covered his hands, but they too were shredded, and brilliant flesh the hue of a robin's egg showed through the gaps in the material of his entire costume.

A single blue lightning bolt extended down from mid chest to run between his slim thighs, disappearing under the edge of his high boots.

Megamind rocked and swayed with the motion of the Subway train, staring forward with a shell shocked expression, his whole body still trembling. He narrowed his green eyes, rimmed with black exhaustion and bruising, on the 20 or so individuals who were crammed into the farthest part of the train car from him, literally sitting on top of each other and standing so close that they looked like sardines in a can. Convinced that they were still too petrified of him to make any sudden movements, he raised a hand and swept it over his large, bald head in exasperation. There was a small gasp from the crowd at the movement, but they settled down soon enough and he went back to ignoring them.

He was fucked.

Well and truly fucked.

He didn't normally think in expletives, but when your life turned out the way his had in the past 24 hours, there were no other words strong enough to describe just how totally, and unequivocally screwed he was. See? That didn't sound nearly as powerful as saying his life was a Cluster-fuck.

First, he lost his best friend. Mainly for being an ungrateful prick, too full of himself to see the reason behind his loyal companion's words and actions. But also for being a giant idiot and falling in love.

Then he lost the girl he was in love with, all because he was yet again, an ungrateful prick and too full of himself to see reason of any kind, supplied by his ex-best friend or not.

Then, he got his ass kicked by the guy who liked the girl he was in love with. Not to mention the fact that this particular fellow was also imbued with God-like powers, all thanks to the aforementioned ungrateful prick. And he was now on a rampage.

And all of this happened within a few hours time. It would probably be best to recap on the events in their entirety.

As he'd turned away from Roxanne's retreating back the night of her rejection, Megamind was filled with soul-crushing regret and depression. This started his mind turning, spinning with pain and anger and devastation so strong and complete that he'd wallowed in self-pity. In one fell swoop, he had destroyed everything that was good in his pathetic little life, and there was no one to blame but himself.

He'd returned to the lair to find Minion actually gone. He'd never expected that, even after seeing the creature pack his single container of fish food and drive away. He'd always assumed it would be for a brief moment, and when he'd return, Minion would be there like normal. Upset, but still at least there.

When he had been greeted with nothing but silence, a deadly sort of calm had taken over his depression.

No one cared for him anymore. Minion had abandoned him. Roxanne had rejected him. The world was repulsed by him. His home was empty, his heart was empty, and his life was empty. What else did he have, besides the only identity he'd ever known? He had evil. The old fall-back. The familiar.

If no one cared, and everyone he loved would eventually leave him anyways, then what was the point in even attempting to be normal and decent? There was no point. Roxanne had been correct; it all was a lie. The joy he felt, the pleasure he got from doing good deeds... It had all just been a lie conjured up by his mind because he was too blinded by his adoration for the brunette reporter. But where had all of that gotten him?

Nowhere.

The only thing that got him anything in his life was by being evil. And just like he had come to this realization years ago, in his childhood, he came back around to it all over again, as if he were renewing his vows.

He was evil. That was all that there was for him to do in this world. He had built a super hero to fight, and he would fight him. He would have purpose. And he could throw himself into the battles, and let it consume him and blot out the feelings that had been steadily growing in his heart since Metro Man's death. And he wouldn't mess it up this time. He would make sure to never fully destroy Titan, the moniker he had bestowed upon Hal. He would keep Titan alive, thus preserving his own place in this world.

Filled with a renewed goal, Megamind had dressed in his finest new cape and outfit, strapped on the battle suit gear that allowed him to control the giant robot that was now completed, and then had taken to the streets.

He felt right, storming up and down the city roads, cackling maniacally out for the whole city to hear. Fireworks shot in the air, smoke plumed on the horizon, and he struck dramatic pose after dramatic pose in the giant mechanized suit, the exoskeleton mimicking his every move from within its dome like torso. And he called Titan out, all the while tramping down on his feelings, forcing them to the side, to focus on the battle soon to begin.

But it never came.

He waited. And waited. And waited. Until his frustration and anger grew to a boiling point, so much so that he even had to go and seek out the hero. Apparently he had not taught him well enough to be like Metro Man. The bloke had no sense of timing or performance. Or even manners! To keep a villain waiting so long! Disrespectful! Rude! Arrogant! Unprofessional!

He hadn't known how right he was, until he'd stormed into Hal Stewart's apartment, full of fury and self righteousness only to stop dead.

No. This wasn't right. Nothing was right. Why wasn't Titan acting like Metro Man? Why was he stealing? Talking about doing evil? He'd worked so hard to train Hal to be good, to copy Metro Man perfectly! They'd spent so long going over it! Where had he gone wrong?

And then it had come to the surface. Roxanne.

Infuriating, heartless, cruel, beautiful Roxanne! She destroyed everything! All his best laid plans, torn apart by her manicured fingers! Hal Stewart was in love with the buxom reporter as well, and his witness to the kiss before Bernard's disguise had broken had solidified the growing feeling for the ex-cameraman that being good wasn't all it was cracked up to be.

Megamind lost his shit, to be quite crude. How dare this man have such amazing powers and waste them on evil deeds like stealing, and vandalism, and petty crimes, and wanting to rule the city and get the girl, and yes he saw the Goddamn irony, thank you very much! This infuriated him all the more and he did the only thing he could think of to set things right; he annoyed the hell out of Hal until he got a reaction. He put all his anger and frustration and pain into being deliberately cruel and vicious.

He threw everything he had at the man. Every last lie he'd ever told. Disguise after disguise he flashed at the towering 'hero', watching his expression turn into a hideous look of rage. He was Space Dad. He was Megamind. He was Bernard. He was everyone and everything that had changed Hal's life and set him on this path, and if he wanted retribution, he'd have to beat it out of him. Because that's really what Megamind wanted. A beating to dull the pain, and then another life sentence. A fight so he could forget, and jail time so he could hide. Just one fight.

And he got it.

Titan exploded with fury and anger and resentment, unleashing his powers against Megamind like a crazed animal. Megamind cackled with delight and joy as the old feelings swam back into his body while he operated the giant mechanical suit to do battle against the super-powered red-head.

This was familiar. This helped to ease the ache in his chest, the pounding in his head, the tears that were never shed from the night before. This old, complicated, familiar dance of witty banter, crashing blows, and the battle between brain and brawn.

Except it quickly went from familiar, to a bit scary.

Megamind had forgotten a key step in his whole plan. That being that only Metro Man knew how to play the game the way Megamind wanted. Because only Metro Man had been a part of the game. Hal didn't know how to play.

So instead of witty banter, he got screamed obscenities and guttural noises erupting from Titan's throat. Instead of crashing blows, he got all out attempts to kill him, Titan fighting like a berserker, foaming at the mouth and out for blood. Instead of an epic battle between brain and brawn, Megamind quickly found himself in a scrambling flee for safety, his battle suit cracking and splintering under un-restrained hit after un-restrained hit.

He was thrown, smashed, blasted, hit, crushed, punched, kicked, spun and pounded into the ground so the warning lights flashed all around him, and his body was slammed from side to side within the hollow torso of the machine. They crashed mercilessly through buildings and roads, bridges and skyscrapers until Titan simply shattered the glass dome around him, and gripped him by the fabric of his cape.

Fear skittered through his veins, in a way that had never happened with Metro Man. Sure, the fear of being caught and sent back to jail was ever present. But this was genuine terror. Fight or flight reactions warred in his mind, the reptilian lobe of his brain screaming to escape. But he held out hope. Yes, Titan was just going to take him jail, and everything would be normal.

But it wasn't normal. He wasn't going to jail. He was going to die.

He was going to be killed.

And Minion, poor abused Minion, still managed to protect his master. Post-it notes caught his eye within the last second, Minion's scrawled handwriting pointing out an emergency button, a simple smiley face telling him to press it in an emergency. And this was definitely an emergency.

He slapped his hand on the button and was instantly sucked through an escape hatch in the bottom of the suit, Titan's grip on his cape choking him as the fabric was torn from his back. Suction pulled at his body and then a blast of air at his back sent him tumbling into the air, high over Metro City and away from Titan but quickly descending. One strangled scream brought two Brain-Bots soaring through the air to catch him, but they too were shot down by a heated explosion. Hal was in pursuit.

Megamind crashed to the ground, his head impacting hard with the unforgiving street. He rolled and somersaulted before coming to a stop, his face torn against asphalt so hot blood coursed down his cheek. He gasped for breath, the wind knocked from his lungs and pain searing through every inch of his body. Weakly, he tried to stagger to his feet, but soon heard Titan's foot falls behind him. A look over his shoulder confirmed the worst, and desperately, he gripped his watch.

"Brain-Bots! Initiate the Fail-safe!" he choked out, barely in time before Titan pulled back one fist, face contorted in a sneer of perverse pleasure. Then, the hollow gong of salvation rang out, as a copper container, rounded and melded together from remaining pieces of the broken observatory, slammed over the would-be villain.

Relief flooded him and he stumbled to his feet, gasping out a few short barks of laughter. Copper. The thing that stopped Metro Man. Titan was contained, and he was safe.

Or not.

The copper fell away like loose leaf paper as Titan clawed out of his containment. He split the giant sphere like it was made of butter, before hefting it mightily over his head.

Megamind's face dropped, blood draining from his body. No. No! He turned as quickly as he could and sprinted for the only thing he could see that could save him. Feet pounding on the pavement, he leapt bodily toward the opening in the sidewalk just beyond his grasp, as he heard the hollow clang of the copper cage rolling behind him and crashing over the stairwell just as he leapt into it.

Tumbling, crashing and bouncing down the stairs, Megamind fell in a broken heap against the metal railing at the bottom of the entrance to the subway system. He lay motionless for several long seconds before a painful, jarring gasp was ripped from his lungs, and he curled in on himself as wracking coughs escaped him. Blood splattered from his lips to stain the concrete floor below, and his hands clutched his torso tightly, trying to ride through wave after wave of intense pain.

His chest was alight with agony. His stomach felt tight, a stabbing sensation burrowing itself deep into his gut. His shoulder was heavy on his left side, as if it didn't want to respond, and it radiated with intense heat so unbearable, he let out a strangled scream once he had the voice for it. He couldn't see and he couldn't hear for so long he feared irreparable damage.

But slowly, he was able to make his eyes focus, and muffled sound reached him. His mind worked furiously to catch up with the events that had occurred, but it felt more sluggish than normal.

He was alive. Potentially concussed if his impaired mental faculties were any indication. His left shoulder was dislocated, a rib was perhaps broken or fractured, and he'd fallen down approximately three flights of concrete stairs and then collided with a metal barrier at the bottom. The gate was dented with the imprint of his spine.

Naturally, any other person suffering such abuse would not be able to get up. But, there were some perks to being alien. Gradually, he was able to make his shaking right hand obey him and grip the ticket gate he was leaning against. He dragged himself to his feet, checking that neither of his legs were broken (which was a relief), and then gritted his teeth against the pain of standing fully, left arm slumped against his side uselessly.

Alien physiology was a blessing in his fights with Metro Man. Although the fallen hero had never been extremely violent, as Hal had been today, Megamind had definitely suffered abuse under super-powered fists. And he'd discovered some unique things. He healed from bruises and cuts quickly. And his bones were thicker and denser than human's, while at the same time having a unique elasticity that made it so that breaking them was exceptionally difficult. Hence the fall with nothing broken beyond a fractured rib. His threshold for pain was also quite high, which had been of great use when you grew up in a prison. More than once he'd suffered horrors he didn't wish on anyone, but he'd eventually been left alone when the thrill of hurting him was never quite satisfied.

The pain tolerance came in handy as he set to re-locating his own arm, bending it at the elbow and using his other arm to pull it back and forth, riding past the pain until the shoulder suddenly found the spot it wanted and was back in with a delightful pop. He sighed and leaned back against the wall, briefly looking up to the mouth of the stairs.

No Titan. He wasn't following.

Megamind didn't look a gift horse in the mouth, and so he'd stumbled and limped his way further into the Subway System, much to the shrieks and horror of traumatized citizens who had raced away from the devastation they heard from above ground.

Tokenless, Megamind had boarded a subway cart train without any problem thanks to a quick shot with his De-Gun to the startled vendor. Passengers leapt from the car in terror, but those unlucky enough to be too far from the door were forced to huddle on one end, fear keeping them along for the ride while Megamind took stock of his situation.

Which brought him to where he was right now. Bruised, beaten, and running away like a dog with its tail between his legs.

He was no match for Titan as he was. He was injured. Weaponless aside for his De-Gun, and the malfunctioning watch on his left arm. Minion had left him, and was therefore no longer a resource to call on in times of need.

Titan had turned evil, and Megamind had been the one to unleash him on the city. But why hadn't the copper worked? If only he knew what Titan's weakness was, he'd be able to use it against him to defeat him. But then again, he'd spent most of his adult life trying to find out that very thing about Metro Man, and he'd been shocked by the whole copper thing to be quite honest. But if Hal had Metro Man's powers, why didn't he have the same weaknesses?

He gripped his head in frustration and pain, cringing slightly before he peered up at the interactive map above him near the train car's ceiling. It listed the stops, a soft flashing dot showing their current position. Quick calculations had him knowing where he was in the city, how far he was from the lair and how long it would take for him to get there if he got off at the closest stop.

But Titan knew where the lair was. Surely he'd go there and be waiting for him, knowing he'd try to get his tools and weapons. He'd been just outside when Roxanne had foun—

Roxanne!

All the synapses in his brain fired at once.

That was it! Roxanne! Aside from Megamind, she was the person who knew Metro Man the most! Perhaps, in their intimate conversations, the hero had revealed something to the kidnap victim when he'd taken her home after an evil plot. Maybe, if he could find her, she'd know something, ANYTHING that could help them stop Titan!

He stared up at the map and his mind hurriedly calculated out where her home was, what stop it would be and how long it'd take him to get to her pent house apartment. Then his mouth went dry.

The last time he'd seen her, she'd just torn his heart asunder, threw it on the ground, and then did a happy little Irish jig all over the organ before marching off into the rain. Pinpricks of sensation came to his eyes, and he hurriedly rubbed the back of his hand across them, and under his nose to stifling the tingling of emotion that was growing.

How could he face her today, heartbroken and still madly in love with her, despite her blatant rejection? She hated him. Despised him. Loathed his being. And he worshipped her. He imagined he still would even if she shot him point blank in the chest, which is coincidentally what last night had felt like, standing in the rain.

Even if she rejection him a million times, he'd still pine for her though. He'd still dream of her face at night, imagine her scent and the texture of her hair. He'd go to the grave with her setting the standard for perfection.

And this made it all the harder to face her in the gruelling light of day, particularly after yet another one of his colossal fuck-ups.

He wasn't looking forward to seeing her again, but his choices were dwindling.

So, much to the relief of everyone aboard the train, in four stops, Megamind leapt out, his health already improving after his little respite aboard the train. He still looked horrible, bloody and bruised, but his speed had returned and some of the pain had dulled enough that he could move about. Adrenline pumped through him and made it all the easier as he cautiously walked up the stairs to the surface, De-Gun pulled and at the ready.

What he saw only made him move much quicker down the streets to Roxanne's building. The city was alight in flames, alarms and sirens screaming in the distance, centered around the downtown district. Cars were overturned, debris littered the streets, and buildings were decimated. Citizens were fleeing in a panic, and his appearance running down the street with gun pulled out only made them riot all the more.

Titan was destroying the city worse than Megamind had ever done. That fear came back and turned Megamind's blood into ice in his veins.

Finally finding the building he wanted, he burst into the small lower lobby and was instantly confronted with a heavy set, thick shouldered behemoth of a man from some nationality that Megamind couldn't really identify and didn't have the time to try to decipher. He pointed his glowing blue gun at the human, and straightened his spine imposingly. He probably didn't look imposing though, dried blood at the corners of his lips, and streaking down his arms and chest. Bruises, scrapes, cuts and burns turning his immaculate suit into a shredded disaster. But he put up a good front anyways.

"Tell me where Roxanne Ritchi is!" he all but shouted, and the man stood up from behind a desk, an odd mixture of fear and defiance on his face.

"I'm not telling you nothing!" came out the still strong sounding reply, in an accent that to Megamind's ears sounded jumbled and slurred.

"AGH I don't have time for this! I've kidnapped her enough to know she's on the top floor!" Megamind screeched in anger at himself before he promptly fired a shot at the man, his form dissipating in blue light to form a perfect cube. Snatching the cube from the air before it touched the ground, Megamind then raced for the gold coloured sliding doors of the elevator, banging his fist repeatedly against the button to make it open. Up he rode to the top floor, all the while calculating, based on the direction her window faced whenever he had kidnapped her from her apartment to decide what way down the hall her apartment must be, and if it was facing a full wall and not a corner, than it must be... THIS ONE!

He hammered his hands against the doorbell beside her door, plastering his face against the peephole, though he knew he wouldn't be able to see in. His panic was escalating as he worried that she wasn't home, and he could hear the sounds of destruction still ripping through the streets outside. Was Titan looking for him? Thirsting for his blood? What if she was out there? Injured? Alone? Dead?

Oh please open up, oh please please please please PLEASE!

Suddenly, to his great shock and gut wrenching relief, her door opened a slice and he heard her angry voice from the other side.

"What do you want?" she snapped aggressively. He had hoped she would open the door all the way, so he began to force himself in, but she barred the entrance. He could feel the weight of her whole body pressing against the door to squish against him. He pushed right back, insistently.

"Titan's turned evil," he explained in a panicked, rushed voice, trying to peer into her apartment.

"Congratulations," she drawled sarcastically, the golden chain across her door jingling as they struggled against one another. "Another one of your genius plans has backfired on you."

Then she paused, peered just a little around the door so he could see one of her bright eyes.

"And why did my doorman let you up?" she snapped, infuriated and he sadly pulled out the little humming cube of blue, lifting it into her view through the crack in the door. Their fingers touched for an electrifying moment as she gave a soft, saddened gasp while plucking the cube from him.

"Oh Carlos," she whimpered to the square, and then her anger was renewed. She roughly tried to slam the door shut on him and he gave a squawk, scrambling to find purchase on the carpet beneath him so he could resist her.

"Please Roxanne! No, no! I need your help!" he cried desperately, leaning his good shoulder into the door fully, wincing as he tried to get into the apartment all the more. She didn't budge an inch.

"Why do you need my help?" she spat with such venom, that he released a slow sigh of half defeat. He didn't blame her for being resistant. Not sixteen hours previous, he'd transformed her opinion of her boyfriend from clumsy, loveable saint into an evil villain right before her eyes, revealing all of his treachery in the process. He had deceived her, lied to her and hurt her. She had a right to bar him entrance, into her home and into her life.

"Because you're the smartest person I know," he almost whispered, looking down. Smartest, after him at least. Her skills as a reporter were unmatched in his eyes, and she potentially held the key to fixing this problem, if she had any extra clues about Metro Man. He didn't know if the admission of his undying respect for her intelligence would help any in getting him into the door, and even if it didn't, a part of him didn't care.

He loved her. He cared for her. Though he wanted to stop Titan and save his own skin, as well as the city which he technically owned, a large part of him worried for her safety. And he was glad she was unharmed in her apartment. Hearing her voice struck a nerve in his heart, and despite the pain of rejection, his wounded heart still fluttered in his chest, just knowing she was near. Even if a door stood between them.

But she seemed to relax her grip on the doorknob and the pressure from her side of the door lessened. She closed the door just a bit, and he let her, hearing her slide the dead-bolt off the doorframe before opening the door wide.

"You can't hide here," she instructed him simply, and relief spread through his body. She was there, in the flesh, and letting him in. Dressed casually in a white tank top, jeans and fuzzy pink slippers, she still looked beautiful and his heart thumped madly in his chest. He wanted to gather her in his arms, kiss her passionately and show her physically his feelings of relief and joy at finding her in one piece. He wanted to bury his hands into the mop of hair and feel it between his fingers, just to savour the sensation and know that, should he die today, he'd at least have lived long enough to experience that. He wanted to try and make them both forget about their night in the rain, to fall back into the relationship they had been building as Bernard and Roxanne. Maybe, maybe if he just kissed her well enough, and swept her into his arms in a romantic grandiose gesture, she'd forget she hated his guts. She'd forget he had lied to her and broken her heart. And instead, she'd want to be with him, as HIM, not as Bernard. Maybe... Maybe...

Maybe that would be a terrible fucking idea.

Luckily, he controlled himself, otherwise he'd certainly be out on his ass again, and she'd slam the door in his face. He had been granted passage for now, and he needed to get to the point of why he had come.

But he rushed into the apartment when his eyes lit upon hanging pieces of paper, suspended by strings in a mosaic of fluttering ideas. Just like in the lair!

He ran straight past her, his eyes riveted on this glorious sight so he came to stop in the center of her apartment. He was dimly aware of the surroundings; the loft like construction, the reds of her furniture and decorations, the feminine feel of the rooms. Light brown painted walls meeting open brick face, window shaped insets built into the stucco to display photographs, small vases, and crystal sculptures. A large professional framed poster taking up one wall with a cat and its shadow, some sort of foreign language in dark script splashed across it, while small potted trees and greenery filled each corner of the large living area. A jacket laid out on an L-shaped couch decorated with black and white throw pillows, a pair of heels laying lopsided on the geometric shape stamped rug beneath an ornate glass coffee table. Magazines, candles, pads of paper, pens, and a laptop were strewn over a marble topped bar. Several dirtied mugs were sitting here or there, lipstick staining the rims. The open concept kitchen wasn't much more cleanly.

But in the living room, just beyond her couch, the area filled with floating paper, cork boards and a rolling chalkboard like his own took all of his attention. He stood among the paper and photographs, madly touching and feeling each one while his eyes darted and his brain worked. He never quite knew why she had this in her apartment, or how she had managed to almost perfectly replicate the systematic filing arrangement where each idea was hung in a precise way, from a precise length of string, by a precise clip. Each had a reason and a meaning, and he was filled with relief to have the display available to him at the moment. It helped calm his nerves, and it made his thinking process all the more clear.

"Copper should have worked. Why didn't the copper work? Copper worked perfectly well last time!" he muttered, touching and feeling and looking at the collage nervously, his active mind running through hundreds of scenarios and reasons. He was vaguely aware of her behind him, watching.

"Copper? You're not making any sense!" she sighed, crossing her arms to watch him with a small frown, obviously not entirely comfortable with him in her apartment. He ignored it for the time being and rushed toward her, dropping a piece of paper on the ground in his haste.

"Look," he began, appealing to her sense of justice and love of her city. "If we don't find Titan's weakness, he'll destroy the whole city," he explained, before turning to gaze out her floor to ceiling windows, watching as clouds of dark smoke rose from the business sector of the town, explosions rocking the ground. He winced.

"Ok. How can I help." She said it softly, but with conviction, and that hurt, annoyed, angry expression she'd been levelling on him turned to one of a little hopefulness, but also some fear. He didn't have time to comfort her as the city was destroyed, so he forged on to explain his reasoning for seeking her out against his better judgement.

"We need to find answers. You knew Metro Man best. D-did he have a hide out?" he asked, stuttering to find the right words in his excitement, his hands gesturing in circles while he paced. "A...a cave, a solitary fortress of some kind. Anything that would give us clues."

He gazed at her for a long time, and his lips pulled in a sad frown while she thought. Her blue eyes darted for a moment, and she looked up at him with a half shrug.

"Well there is one place I know."

"Where?" he demanded almost breathlessly, reaching forward to grip her shoulders in his desperation. She looked quickly down at his hands, but didn't shirk away from him.

"Out on the point. It's this little red building. Once, he dropped me off at the Marina, and I saw him fly off toward it, after one of your battles."

"Little red building?" he asked, confused, but then a spark of an idea hit him, and he grew quiet. He knew what the building would look like. He could see it clearly in his mind. Did he really want to go back there? And why that, of all places, to use as a safe-house?

"You're hurt," she suddenly said, and he was torn from his musings to look up at her with a blink. Her eyes were wide with something like concern as she seemed to take in his appearance for the first time. He hastily dragged the back of his glove across his mouth, eyeing the blood that came off with the movement.

"Huh? Oh. Yes. I fought Titan. I didn't... I didn't expect him to be so... so..."

"Not like Metro Man?" she supplied helpfully, and he gave a rueful smile.

"Yes, I suppose that sums it up. Look, we can talk about my injuries on the way. We have precious little time. Titan is unstoppable right now, and it's up to me to stop him."

"Up to us," she corrected, as she was already turning toward the door, grabbing a set of keys from a hook near the wall, and he followed her as she began to close the door and then hurry toward the elevator. His throat tightened at the idea of her getting injured when she came up against a very angry Hal who had a very big crush on her...

"Us? No, I just need your help in figuring this all out. You are NOT getting involved further."

"Like hell I'm not. Hal was my friend... sort of. Well, he was at least my cameraman. Maybe I can reason with him," she argued, punching the down button so the gold doors closed them into the tight space side by side. He mused over the last time they'd been in an elevator together. The day it had all began.

"I would not suggest that Roxanne. You see what he's done to me. And I can withstand a fair amount of punishment. You on the other hand..."

"What, am I weak?" she snapped at him, and he gave a start, recoiling back from her reflexively. The fire was back in her eyes, her nose scrunched up indignantly while she stared at him.

"I, uh. What? No?" He didn't know what answer would make her less likely to hit him.

She gave a frustrated sigh, staring forward as the elevator descended into the basement parking structure below the building.

"I don't want you hurt," he managed with a chagrined mumble and she glanced at him from the corner of her eye, sweeping her hair quickly behind her ear. He didn't even have the presence of mind to note the adorable gesture with his normal attentiveness. He had bigger things to worry about.

"Well you should have thought of that some weeks ago, huh?" she replied, quickly marching out of the elevator when it pinged out their arrival. The smell of rubber, gasoline and car exhaust filled his nostrils, but he followed her, well aware that he had no transportation to get them to where they needed to go, and he was thus at her mercy. And she seemed to know that. She walked down the aisles of cars, making her way toward the large, white box van with her news stations insignia on the side.

"I deserve that," he replied smartly, to which she glanced over her shoulder back at him, raising an eyebrow. She seemed shocked at the admission. Then she stopped in front of the van and he followed suit, standing quite still while her gaze bore into him intensely.

"You know. If I close my eyes, I can almost imagine you're still Bernard. The way you talk and move," she said, in a quiet, child like voice filled with hurt, but her face remained neutral at best, angry at worst. She then turned and opened the driver's side door of the van and climbed in. He did the same, wincing when he used his left arm to grip the handle on the inside ceiling of the vehicle to pull himself up and in. Sitting down, he massaged the offended shoulder weakly.

"I am still Bernard. He and I are the same. I never changed who I was when I was with you," he responded coldly in a defensive tone, and she gave a little snort, slamming the keys into the ignition, turning it hard, and then stomping her foot down on the gas harder than need be, so he was pressed back into his seat, and the van squealed on its tires. They careened through the parking structure faster than they had to, and Megamind gripped the dash and part of the door tightly for stability. Her tone of sentimentality was obliterated by his statement, replaced with seething rage.

"You are NOT Bernard."

"I beg to differ! I am, in case you have forgotten last night."

"Forgotten last night? How the FUCK am I supposed to forget last night? You destroyed EVERYTHING that I had going good in my life!"

"And that 'good' was ME. I was Bernard the entire time," he shot back.

"No. Bernard was sweet, and witty and adorable, and a good human being! You are Megamind, and you are a skinny, ugly, blue headed ASSHOLE!" she hissed at him through gritted teeth, and instantly his hackles were up. He sat up straight, but nearly fell over again when they came out of the underground apartment complex, and took a hard right onto the street, the noise from the tires making him feel like he was on an episode of Chips. Recovering, he fixed her with an angry stare.

"Oh, am I? Well, you are a nosy, fat-hipped, obnoxious, loud BITCH!" he screamed right back at her, and she turned to him with a mortified expression on her face. He grinned smugly.

"Ohh don't like that, do you Miss Ritchi?"

"Shut up! Just shut up!" she cried back, swerving to avoid a parked car, and a large chunk of shattered concrete and brick as they sped out toward the peninsula on the outskirts of town. Evidence of his battle with Titan was everywhere, and they had to dip into craterous holes in the road the shape of his mechanical suit.

"Shut up? Well, that's not a very el-oo-quent response. I think you've become rusty in your bantering skills," he replied sarcastically, frowning at her. If she wanted to have a shouting match, he was game. He could feel himself getting riled up, face flushed and aggravation making him grind his teeth.

"You are so egotistical, you know that?" she snapped at him, and he wondered if she'd expanded her vocabulary because of his comment. "So FUCKING full of yourself you can't even see when you've hurt people!" Nope, evidently not, if her liberal use of the F-Bomb was any indication.

"I can't see when I've hurt people? I may be evil but I am not BLIND Miss Ritchi! I am well aware when I have hurt people. That's the point of being eee-vil," he drawled back to her, his words dripping with malice and the snarky retort sounded vengeful on his lips.

"What about me, huh? You see how you hurt me, Oh Supreme Overlord of Metro City? Did the thought even enter your giant blue head that maybe, oh I don't know... Just MAYBE you shouldn't disguise yourself and lie to a girl and make her like you?"

"Of course I knew it was wrong!" he retorted, and then made a gesture to his large cranium with a 'Duh' sort of expression. "It's big for a reason."

"Then why'd you do it?" she spat back, and he thought he heard her voice breaking near the end, but she had her eyes riveted to the road ahead as they travelled along a side street, the buildings quickly dissipating into suburbia. The houses grew few and far between, the buildings became smaller, and the residential area blended into the industrial.

"Because!" he began ferociously. And then, his voice tapered out into something small. "Because... I just wanted... For just a little while, I thought... Maybe, if I... The way you..." and he eventually settled for just slumping back into his seat, staring at his hands on his lap, plucking at the shredded gloves. The fight was out of him already, like a summer storm all full of flash and bang to then creep silently into the night.

"What?" she asked, her tone quieter and deflated, the anger gone, replaced by something sad that filled the cabin of the van with tension. He sighed again, looking first out the window as the asphalt road began to vanish, replaced with gravel as they exited the city limits. The van bumped along, the noise of tires on pebbles filling the air. Then he looked back at her.

"I used Bernard as a disguise because I had to, at first. The Museum. At the Lair. I had to stop you from poking around. But then, when you... when you hugged me, er... Bernard. Well, can you blame me for wanting to experience it again?" he asked, frowning at her when he finally moved his gaze back up to her face. She was biting her lower lip, her knuckles white on their grip of the steering wheel. "You were persistent. You didn't give me much options to say No to meeting with you. If I hadn't, you would have gone looking for Bernard. I would have been found out."

"It still doesn't make it right," was her only response.

"No, it does not. But I've rarely done things right in my life. I'm much better at doing things wrong."

"Like giving Hal super powers and setting him loose on the city?"

"Alright, that was a mistake! I had meant for him to be trained into a REAL Super Hero. A good one. Like Metro Man!"

"Well you gave him these powers, couldn't you just take them away?"

"I can't..." he sighed. "I lost my Defusor Gun when I misplaced the invisible car that night. When you left me. Alone. In the rain," he added miserably, checking her expression with each word. She was cringing more and more with each added sentence, pursing her lips together tightly and drawing her eyebrows down as if with some sort of guilt. This made a thought strike him.

"Did you ever look back?" he asked softly, and she suddenly slammed on the brakes while shouting out a firm negative, sending him flying toward the windscreen with a solid thud noise. He gripped his skull in agony, receiving his second concussion of the day while he wailed in pain.

Touchy subject.

"Whoops, I guess we're here," she said hurriedly, and he was already climbing out of the van while he tried to nurse yet another injury to his already growing list, in case she decided to injure him again. He jumped down to the sandy ground below them, gravel mixing with silt while tall reeds and grasses swayed around him. And perched gently on a slight hill right at the tip of the peninsula that jutted around Metro City, was a red schoolhouse, its paint peeling and faded.

He let out a sigh as memories began to swim before his eyes. How long had it been since he'd watched this building raise from its supports, dirt and foundation dropping to the pit it left in its wake before flying off to parts unknown. He'd rested his thin, orange dressed arms across the back seat of the swaying prison bus to watch it fly away, propelled by a young Wayne Scott as he was called back then, and an odd mixture of first glee and then sadness had swirled in his pre-adolescent mind. He'd been bad, and it had felt good back then, but realization came quickly as he was able to understand that he would no longer be able to leave the prison to attend school. He had signed his own death sentence that day, tearing that tiny bit of freedom out of his own grasp by his impulsive behaviour.

School had been difficult, that was true enough. Filled with teasing, taunting, brutal humiliation and an aching loneliness. But it was still freedom. It was still seven hours outside of a cell and bars. It was still mental stimulation that he simply couldn't find on a hard cot in the dark of the night. It was still seeing different faces than the sneering, leering and scarred ones of fellow inmates. It was still access to learning, and tools, and books that were different from the ones he'd already devoured in the prison library. It was still a glimpse at a normal life, like other kids.

And with one generous application of bleach and other household cleaning products, he'd exploded apart any of his hopes of continuing that little reprieve in his life of imprisonment.

He seemed to have a real knack for that, he mused, glancing over to the woman who slowly stepped out of the van, standing up tall and balanced in the vehicle's doorway while the wind from the lake beyond swept up in a wave through the grasses around them. It sent her hair into a flurry of movement, sweeping high, and her hand came up to try and tame it. She looked at him as the wind died down, her expression turning from the concentration and wonder, to a quickly guarded frown. Then she looked away, and stepped down onto the ground, slamming the door.

He wasn't just a villain to the citizens of Metro City it seemed. He was also pretty good about ruining his own hopes and dreams. His dream of being with Roxanne included. History was repeating itself, again and again, and he wondered briefly about the insanity inherent in his actions, if he kept doing the same thing but expecting different results each time. Would he ever actually learn?

He doubted it.

See? There were simply no words strong enough to describe his situation. Hopelessly in love with someone who would never return his affections, trying to save a city that had imprisonned him from a villain he had created to fulfill his own need to be evil.

Yep. No other way to describe it.

He was fucked.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes: **Here's the next chapter, wherein we see Music Man. Yay!  
**Disclaimer:** 'Megamind' and all its characters are owned by _Dreamworks. _I own nothing.

* * *

**Falling Before Her Eyes**

_Chapter 9_

* * *

"What is this place? Lil' Gifted School for Lil' Gifted Kids?" Roxanne was reading, narrowing her eyes at the faded and chipped sign that hung over the door of the red, rusted single room schoolhouse perched on the jutting point of the Metro City Bay. Tall grasses and reeds swayed around them in the wind as their shoes crunched on the gravel and silt beneath the news van the pair had taken to find the building which could potentially be the last hope they had of saving the city. They prayed that within they might find some clue as to where Metro Man's sanctuary had been, and within that, they hoped to find a way to combat Titan, who was ravaging the city beyond, clouds of acrid smoke raising from the destroyed remains of buildings to turn the skies black and grey.

Roxanne's voice was incredulous as she stood near Megamind, both of them staring up the cutesy sign, as if she found the quirky wording to be a joke. Megamind just shrugged his shoulders a little lamely, wincing only a bit at the steadily fading ache of his once dislocated shoulder after his battle with Titan.

"They weren't very imaginative back then. I admit to finding the name questionable as well when I first saw it."

"Back then? Wait, do you know this school?" Roxanne asked, turning to stare at him with one eyebrow raised, her hair drifting across her eyes and she quickly brushed it back. He watched it closely.

He had once found that movement endearing. It used to set his heart thumping with desire, but now, it just made his chest squeeze painfully. It only served as a reminder for the fact she had rejected him outright upon discovering his true identity beneath the guise of Bernard. It was hard enough to stand beside her and hear her voice, let alone watch her play with that blasted hair. He bit down his urge to touch her, to fall back into the budding relationship they had been building together. It was a struggle, because although her feelings had definitely changed, his remained the same. Hopeless. Deep. Drowning in love. He forced himself to focus on walking up the slight incline to the front door of the school, speaking over his shoulder at her.

"Yes. It was my school, for a brief time. Both Metro Man and I attended."

"You're joking," she said flatly, her expression unimpressed. Megamind just frowned at her and marched forward toward the building after straightening his shoulders in preparation. Placing his own hand on the door, he pushed it open slowly, the hinges creaking ominously.

"I assure you, I am not. It was a campaign by the prison to attempt to educate me."

"This is kind of far away from the prison, don't you think? It's practically on the opposite end of the city," she remarked, following him as they both stepped into the dust covered old schoolhouse, cobwebs hanging from its once cheery walls.

"Yes, well, it... moved locations, shortly after a certain incident."

"An incident...?" she asked softly, but he was hardly listening anymore once his feet took him over the threshold into the school. The room, although stuffy with disuse, dust and years of time, still invoked such memories that he felt like he was back in the too big orange jumpsuit, his fingers clammy against the clear glass that held Minion, wrists heavy with chains. Hopeful in the doorway, seeing children his own age for the first time in his entire life. The fear, the shock, the recognition that one of them was different too, and could lift a desk high above his head, spinning it effortlessly. This would be good. A place where he was accepted. They accepted the other 'different' boy, didn't they? A little glimmer of excitement blossomed in his chest and he'd tried on a shy smile in greeting.

But there were no children in the school house anymore, it's once sandy beige walls discoloured, wallpaper peeling and rolling down to the scuffed and darkened wood flooring. The bright cheerfulness of the room had been replaced with the rough toll of the ages. And he was no longer a child, but a man, staring around the abandoned room.

The same chalkboard was against the far wall, its surface permanently stained with scrawled words only half wiped away. The white board still stood to the left, but it was tipped back into the corner, one side of its pine border torn asunder. The laminated surface was warped and streaked by the elements that must have poured in through the cracked window to its left. Child sized chairs were thrown askew everywhere, their pastel colours faded and dimpling. The floor, once covered in that foamy puzzle-piece mat, was bare now, only a slight staining of the hardwood beneath giving any indication that children had once been able to sit cross legged on its spongy surface. The low cubby holes that once made up shelves, shoe racks, and benches were empty of toys and arts supplies. Desks were crammed into the right corner closest to the door, tilting against one another, shattered and broken as if they had been thrust there in an angry rage and left to deteriorate. There were no pictures on the walls, no crayon creations displayed. Just darkness, filth, and destruction.

Megamind took a slow turn around the small room, his eyes taking in every detail, cataloguing it, making inferences about what might have happened. The children might have grown, and gone off to live their lives. The teacher would have run out of a job, potentially as soon as Metro Man moved the school to this location and it became increasingly difficult for children to even GET to the school. Or perhaps this wasn't even its second location. Could the hero have held such sentimentality for the old place that he'd moved it another time still?

There wasn't any evidence that he had been here in some time though. Megamind's hope of this being Metro Man's secret hide-away were shattered. The place had not seen company in many years. Besides, there was really no space here. It wouldn't make a proper lair for anyone. All it was, was four corners, one filled with broken desks, another with piles of disused boxes, a third with the broken easel and white board, and the fourth?

He knew that corner all too well. Alighting his eyes on the floor to ceiling supply cabinet, his feet took him toward it, unbidden. Reflexively, he stood himself into the corner, looking down at his feet. They were bigger than before, encased in black boots instead of prison-issued lace-less sneakers. But he was still able to line them up as he had as a child. The outer soles of each shoe placed perfectly along the slat line of the wood floor, toes lined up with the next board. Perfectly between the lines, for once. He lifted his gaze and stared at the cabinet door like always. The difference was, before, at his smaller height, he'd been eye level with the second from the bottom hinge of the door. Now, he was staring at the third. He watched it with a firm intensity, but he knew his expression was a dismal look of depression.

"I don't think Metro Man's been here in a long time," Roxanne was saying behind him. "And I definitely don't think he's used it as a lair."

He narrowed his eyes, something niggling in the back of his mind.

"Crap. Looks like a dead end. I'm sorry Megamind, but I don't think we'll find any answers here."

The hinge looked... shiny?

"What do we do now? Maybe... No... Ugh, I don't know. What do you think?"

He leaned forward, squinting at the hinge while tilting his head.

"Megamind?"

It didn't look as old as it once had. Definitely not as old as it should be, based on the state of the rest of the school house.

"Megamind."

It looked like it had been replaced. He could see the wood shavings on the ground where a fresh screw had been drilled through the frame. And what was that? It looked almost like finger prints along the door's edge, like someone's hand had wiped away the heavy layers of dust had had settled over almost everything else.

"MEGAMIND!" Roxanne shouted a mere inch from behind him, and he leapt up in a panic, swinging his arms wildly in some imitation of a karate move he'd seen on TV. She recoiled and glared at him.

"What the heck are you doing, staring into this corner?" she demanded, hands on her hips.

"Look!" he quickly exclaimed, pointing enthusiastically once his heart had stopped pounding. "This door hinge has been replaced!"

"So? It could have been replaced years ago."

"No no, see it's still shiny. And come to think of it, this whole DOOR looks like it's new. The construction is much different from when I was here."

"...You sure know a lot about this cupboard."

"I was... intimately acquainted with this corner," he offered with a glance off to the side.

"Was this the naughty corner?" she asked, her lips turning up into a sort of jokingly devious grin, and she brushed some hair away from her face. He cocked a smile as well, shrugging.

"What can I say? I have always been a bad boy."

"I bet," she replied, in something that could only be described as a flirtatious voice and he flushed purple, trying not to let his excitement get the better of him. Was she actually flirting with him?

She seemed to catch her mistake, because her eyes widened a fraction, before she scoffed, her expression closing down firmly while she avoided his eyes. She looked angry with him, or was it with herself? Protectively, she wrapped her arms around her middle and when she looked back at him, she frowned expressively.

"I keep forgetting who you are," she said cryptically, but he understood and shrugged his shoulders in a sort of helpless way, raising his hands up.

"I am still the same person, whether you like it or not Roxanne. I cannot change that, though I wish I could."

"Why is one of the doors sort of blue?" she suddenly asked, as if ignoring anything he had to say, looking at the adjacent door which indeed had a blue tinge to it. He smirked. How they must have tried to clean it.

"Ah yes! My parting gift to Mr. Goody Two Shoes and his soft-headed cronies... See? This door MUST have been replaced, otherwise it too would have been stained with my signature colours from my Paint Bomb. It was quite ingenious for a child my age actually. I fashioned a crude incendiary device from the contents of this very cupboard," he explain elaborately and pulled open the door to display the shelves that had once held the cleaning products he used on his final day in Shool, but the shelves were gone. Everything was gone in fact. Especially the floor. Where there had once been a solid base to the closet, now there was the open mouth to a cellar like stairwell.

They both gaped openly in shock as they stared down the long, narrow staircase of stone where you had to duck to get past the jutting of the base of the wall of the schoolhouse itself, leading down toward what seemed to be a well-lit hallway. A cool draft ruffled the hair around Roxanne's face at his side, and they exchanged a pleased grin.

"This looks like a lair if I ever saw one," she quipped, and was already heading down the stairs before he could say another word. He followed after her, the sound of his boots echoing through the subterranean stairwell as he caught up with her at its bottom. A hallway stretched for what seemed like a very long distance, safely beneath the peninsula of Metro City. That explained why the School was out on such a far point, as it allowed for the lengthy hall to extend below the sandy surface above it. The stair well leading down had been quite long, enough to burrow beneath the sand and silt to find hardened earth suitable for constructing such a structure within.

"Metro Man didn't seem like the under-ground fortress type to me," she said at last, when the silence between them aside for their footfalls had seemed too much.

"Yes. It is quite curious. But inventive. I give him points for presentation! The irony of it being in the Shool-house is just FANTASTIC."

"Irony? What's ironic about that?"

"Ah, well, it was the birth place of my villainy Miss Ritchi. It would seem a more fitting entrance way to MY secret lair than to his, would it not? The Hero, using the villain's motivation for evil as a base of operations. Poetic."

"Your lair is hardly a secret Megamind. You had a giant brick wall that said 'Nobody lives here' on it, and a doormat labelled Secret Entrance."

"That was Minion's fault," he replied back sharply, pointing his finger into her face which she promptly swatted away while they walked. They glared at each other with similar expressions; eyes narrowed, chins thrust forward, noses wrinkled.

"Besides, Miss Nosy Reporter, it sure took you some time to find it, if it wasn't so secret. How do you explain that? HAH!" he laughed at her, mightily proud for pointing out the gap in her logic. She just frowned at him, marching along at his side.

"I never had a real reason to go looking for it. You were kidnapping me so often, I always ended up there anyways," she replied quickly. Hmm, touché.

"I only kidnapped you as a way to get back at Metro Man!"

"Oh, is that so? It didn't have anything to do with the fact I gave you free publicity, so you could get your ego stroked by seeing yourself on the 5 o'clock news?"

"Hardly," he scoffed theatrically. "If anything, your nosy journalistic endeavours are more of a hindrance. Need I remind you, it was because of you being a nosy reporter and looking for things you shouldn't be looking for that Titan is now destroying the city," he said in an offhand way, examining his fingers through his shredded gloves and she made a sort of snorting noise beside him. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, and her face was red with indignation, her mouth working like a guppy.

"M-my fault?" she crowed, the sound echoing down the hallway as they were half-way toward the door at its end. "How is this MY fault?"

"You squeezed the trigger of the gun. Therefore, your fault."

"You MADE the gun!"

"You tried to steal it from me!"

"I wasn't stealing it! I was trying to protect Bernard!"

"Well, I WAS Bernard, so there was no one to protect!"

"I didn't know that then, you jerk! UGH! Why are you so frustrating!"

"Because, I'm evil. That's what I do."

"You know what, I don't think you're evil anymore. I just think you're a jackass."

"An EVIL Jackass, thank you very much."

"Hardly. Someone who was evil wouldn't have been trying to impress me by cleaning up the streets, or putting all the paintings back."

"...It was all part of a very evil plan, I assure you."

"Really? An evil plan huh? Was the kiss part of the evil plan?"

"...Admittedly no."

"You know, I think there's an apology in order for the other night," she began after heaving a sigh, fixing him with a glare, but he quickly ran forward, partly to avoid the conversation, but more importantly because the large, black iron door was just a few feet in front of them. He spoke over his shoulder at her.

"That would be nice, but make it quick. We have much more pressing matters to deal with," he said, hearing her scoff of frustration as his hand touched against the thick door, brackets and grommets shining in the overhead lights that lined the long hallway. Tentatively, he pushed the door open so it swung on its hinges noiselessly, revealing the room beyond.

They were instantly assaulted with the gleam of a room of pure white, soft grey and gold, the shine of glass and metal blinding in its intensity. It was like everything here had been polished within an inch of its life, and once it had recovered from the near death experience, it was polished once more until it finally succumbed to its injuries and died a brilliant, shining death.

It was a mausoleum built in Metro Man's honour; that was the only way Megamind could describe it. A soft exclamation was pulled from his lips as he stared around the circular room, its marble floors buffed and glimmering beneath his feet. Columns supported the ceiling above them, ridged in gold accents, each column supporting a trophy and small statue in its carved-out shelf. A sunken portion of the room held a semi-circle couch (white and gold, if you could imagine), along with a chic chair and glass coffee table that reflected the image of the elaborate chandelier above it. Pictures of Metro Man hung on the walls, each face grinning, or winking, or smirking down at them, sometimes with a finger point, other times with hands on his hips, chest thrust forward. Display cases held gold-cast busts of the Super Hero's likeness, old costumes and various memorabilia. The farthest wall, with an elaborate 'M' protruding from the facade with wainscoting and trim, held a cavalcade of musical instruments, speakers and a single stool. Several doors ran off into other areas of the underground hide-away.

"I can't believe he kept all this stuff," Megamind sighed, spreading his arms wide to encompass the action figures, frames, old costumes and statuettes. His eyes lit upon a fur trimmed cape standing on a mannequin. The luscious ruff laid proudly on the display's thick shoulders, the white fabric trimmed with gold stitching in the pattern of a star spangled border draping down to brush the floor with its length. He remembered when Metro Man had worn the cape, during the chill of winter, the faux fur ruffling in the bitter wind produced by Megamind's BlizzardBlastBazooka. That had been a good battle. How Megamind had coveted the coat. He always had such a weakness for high collars.

He glanced back at his own non-existent cape, now just the frayed ends of torn threading gripping to the back of his demolished shoulder pads. He felt so naked without a cape brushing at his legs, protecting his back. He'd been walking around without one since his battle with Titan, and catching a glimpse of himself in the reflection of a glass cabinet, he realized just how... un-menacing he looked. All scrawny body and long limbs. A cape helped to negate that, adding extra volume to his thin figure. Hence the shoulder pads. And the collars? They evened out the size of his head. Simple as that. Without it, his cranium looked all the more bulbous. Not to mention capes and spikes just looked cool.

So here he was, looking at his very worst, decidedly uncool in his appearance. And here it was, the cape he'd looked at with envy, but had been unable to ask Minion to create for him, because that would mean admitting he'd had non-spike inspired fantasies about clothing... And with Metro Man dead, this cape had no owner. It looked so very lonely...

"Can we stay focussed here?" Roxanne interjected from behind him as if she could read his thoughts, while she began to examine the room thoroughly. He responded with some quick words that he heard her and was agreeing, crossing his arms and walking away from the statuesque cloak, all the while darting his gaze back to it in all its ivory glory.

Oh he felt so darn naked! Now that he was thinking about being capeless, the draft at his rear was all-consuming in its distraction power. It sent chills running up his spine, and sweat grew on his neck. His shoulder pads felt heavy and oppressive, and while glancing back at her for a brief moment, he chewed on one finger nervously. Maybe, if he just... tried it on.

He all but threw himself back onto the mannequin, tearing his previous cape off of his body by unclasping the M emblem at his throat. It fell with a thud to the ground at his feet and when he yanked the white, fur trimmed ensemble from its perch, and threw it around his own shoulders with a flourish, his eyes practically crossed at the decedent feel of fur tickling his neck.

It was just like the sensation of Roxanne's hair, when she'd curled against his shoulder under the sun. He purred with pleasure.

"Hey!" Roxanne suddenly called, and Megamind practically fell over in his shock, so deeply lost in the feel of hair and wild fantasies. "Come over and look at this!"

He scrambled over, tripping in his haste to run down the few steps into the sunken living area, but promptly jumped up once more, adrenaline pumping through him so he panted.

"What is it? What did you find?" he asked excitedly, and she stared at him for some time, awkwardly. He avoided her gaze and instead tried to look around the room to see whatever she had called him over for.

Don't mention the cape. Don't mention the cape. Don't mention the cape.

Finally, she squatted down in front of the coffee table, staring directly at a glass of ice water, the cubes crackling and tinkling as they shifted in the tall glass. Condensation beaded against the cup's exterior and Roxanne pointed it out while he bent down to follow her in a lengthy conversation about the cup.

Megamind struggled to keep up with where her train of thought was going but his mind was decidedly preoccupied. This was the closest they had been since their kiss the night before. Since that time, she'd kept her distance, pulling away from him. But squatting together, shoulders brushing to investigate, he could smell her, feel her heat, and watch her closely. She was talking to him again like the way she had when he was Bernard. Like they were partners, co-conspirators out for the same goal. She was sharing her observations with him, trying to unravel a mystery. It was mental stimulation, the kind which he'd always craved, while her body heat added physical stimulation as well.

But he didn't really care about the glass. Why did it matter? They were here to discover a weakness of Metro Man's in order to stop Titan. So what did he care if there was a glass with condensation and ice in it. Maybe this lair had some sort of high-tech air conditioning system that maintained the overall heat of the water and the relative air around it, which wouldn't be that hard to develop seeing is that the lair was already underground which acted as an excellent insulator, and all you would need to do is have an air supply from above ground, re-worked and filtered down into the lower living area, with a main terminal to control the air density and temperature, and he could whip something up within a day or two, if he had the right tools, and if he went back to his lair he could get Minion to start working on the cooling system, although he'd need to find a different cooling agent since Freon wasn't always the most accessible gas and wait, what was that noise?

He exchanged a somewhat fearful look with Roxanne, who had evidently heard the creaking sound as well, and with an expression of solidarity, they turned in unison to view the impending threat.

An unintelligible scream was wrung from both of their throats as the robed man before them, hair hanging around his face and stubble marring his chin, flashed them a hopeful grin and a short greeting.

"Hey."

"Metro Man?" Megamind asked once he found his voice again. The man before him, who hardly looked like the Metro Man he knew, winced visibly and had the decency to look a little chagrined.

"Hi Roxie. Megamind," he chuckled, the sandwich in his hand somewhat forgotten as he used that hand to rub at the back of his neck in a self conscious fashion. Realizing he still held the bread, meat and cheese, he pulled it back quickly, wrinkling his nose with some exasperation from having just rubbed his food against the collar of his white bathrobe. He abandoned the food with a martyred sigh to focus his attention on the two shell-shocked individuals before him.

Megamind felt the strength leave his body, and the air leave his lungs. All his nights of guilt. The gnawing sensations of regret. Blowing up the Metro Man museum to blot out the feelings. Needing to create another hero. The Infusor Gun. The Bernard disguise. Roxanne. Weeks and weeks of anxiety, elation, and then crushing misery. All of this, because he had destroyed Metro Man. And yet, here he was.

Metro Man... was alive?

"You're alive?" Roxanne fairly screamed, echoing Megamind's thoughts when he couldn't make his lips form the words, except for in a bare whisper. His world felt shaken. He kept staring at the tall being before him, no longer immaculate in his appearance but almost... sloppy. Unshaven, his normally perfect hair standing on end and parting to either side of his face, he looked like an unemployed bum, a date with a package of Pizza Pockets and a marathon of Mythbusters the only thing filling his calendar for the day. Megamind couldn't wrap his mind around it. He was drawing a blank.

The once-dead hero winced again and shrugged his large shoulders.

But, the Death Ray? The Explosion? What the hell was going on?

"I'm alive," Wayne Scott responded back, obviously not in the least bit happy to be found. Megamind didn't blame him, not the way he looked right now. But still... He was alive?

His skeleton had fallen directly onto Megamind's lap, charred and eye sockets gaping intensely at him!

"But... I... I... we saw your skeleton! You were dead!" Roxanne cried out, again speaking the words for both of them, her hands splaying out as she gestured madly, her anxiety high.

"Are you a ghost?" Megamind asked breathlessly, unsure if he was for some reason hallucinating. It wouldn't be the first time, and potentially wouldn't be the last. His imagination was active at best, delusional at worst. During times of intense planning and inventing, his basic bodily needs were often pushed to the way side. Megamind could write a Doctoral level thesis and three books on the hallucinogenic properties of a combined lack of sleep, no nutritional sustenance and too much time spent bent over chemicals, electricity and a drafting table. And bleary eyed, weak and frantic, he'd see things. Hear things. Feel things. And given the fact he'd had his head smashed in several times that day, it could very well be a product of multiple concussions as well.

"There had better be an amazing explanation for this," Roxanne said at his side, the words coming out as a nearly hysterical laugh.

"Speak apparition," Megamind whispered more dreamily, reaching forward to touch the Hero before him, to ascertain for himself the real existence of the being. The face felt real, the prickle of facial hair stabbing into his finger tips, and Metro Man's un-amused expression was fairly fitting too. Eventually, Megamind's slim wrist was caught in a powerful hand, and Metro Man pried his grasp off of his face, sighing heavily as if he was weary of the world.

"Ok," he said slowly, then repeated the word over and over again, as if to try and fortify himself for his story. And what a story. Megamind wished he had something to fortify himself with before it began. Like a stiff drink. Or a gun.

In short, Metro Man explained his feelings of being burnt out and listless in his current job. How he'd come to these realizations and faked his own death, using Megamind's plan as a cover-up.

Megamind didn't find it hard to believe that the Super Hero was tired of being all-powerful and having to run to everyone's aid. It would no doubt be a gruelling job, filled with stress. It seemed logical that without any form of respite, Metro Man simply worked himself to a point of total dissatisfaction. He did however, find it a little infuriating that Metro Man had the gall to talk about wanting freedom when he was constantly shoving Megamind behind bars.

But that wasn't what really upset the genius.

What upset Megamind most was the fact he'd been used. And apparently, Metro Man had just been playing him like a fiddle, stringing him along to think he ever had a chance of beating him. He'd basically just stopped time to have himself a little existential crisis during Megamind's Death Ray plan, like their epic battles were just another day in the office that he could take or leave if he so chose.

The blue alien had to flop back onto the couch behind him, his knees feeling weak.

Metro Man could do that? Just speed up his movements so fast that he could wander around, have some lunch, get some laundry done and come back to play Hero when he was ready? He knew about his super speed, but to physically move so fast as to stop time itself... How the hell was Megamind ever supposed to win against a power like that? Which really explained the fact that he hadn't won at all. Ever. Metro Man had faked his own death as a way of escaping from the doldrums and oppression he felt being Metro City's hero. Megamind had never tasted victory. Just some cheap knock-off, to cover for Wayne Scott going into retirement.

Megamind was hyperventilating by the end of it, and Roxanne flopped onto the couch beside him, looking just as shell-shocked and traumatized by this news as he was.

What made it worse was the fact that Metro Man had thrown away their battles and his duties in favour of... singing. And writing lyrics about his super powers. After a few strummed cords of a song, Megamind and Roxanne had both had enough, standing up in unison. They were incredulous at his decision to abandon Metro City, and they tried to reason with him.

"There's a madman out there destroying our..." Megamind said but stopped, giving his head a shake to continue. "YOUR city!"

When had it become his city? Potentially when he took it over after Metro Man's supposed-death, but the implication felt different when he said it today. There was more than just an ownership. There was a protectiveness.

"How could you do this?" Roxanne was screaming now, her aggravation and fury palpable in the air, far more upset about this than Megamind was acting. She released a sort of snarling growl from her throat, her hands spread like claws as she looked around herself and suddenly just began to throw anything within her grasp toward the stoic faced hero. Statuettes, guitars, and pieces of furniture collided with his chiselled chin, shattering uselessly while he didn't so much as blink. It didn't deter Roxanne in the least.

"The people of the city relied on you and you deserted them!" she cried out, hefting an electric guitar over her head in both hands before bringing it down brutally across the tall man's head, the twang of the strings echoing in the underground lair as they snapped against Metro Man's nose. Megamind just watched with some sort of dull amazement, waiting to see if Metro Man reacted in any way to the woman's explosion.

He wisely didn't say anything, and neither did Megamind. He knew he was on thin enough ice that potentially she was venting her frustrations toward HIM as well, channelling all her sorrow and pain from the past few weeks and particularly last night into assaulting Metro Man, and he was pretty grateful to not be on the receiving end of her fury.

"You left us in the hands of... HIM!" she bellowed now, running out of things to throw as she gestured to encompass Megamind in her rant. Then, as an afterthought, she looked over at the blue male with a slight cringe. "No offense," she offered pitifully.

"No," Megamind responded, holding his hands up. "I'm with you." He had to admit he was a little shocked that Metro Man would leave him in charge of the city so guiltlessly. It didn't really make much sense. But he shook his head and moved forward, toward the barrel-chested man, beseechingly.

"Look, we need your help..." he admitted in a soft voice, not sure how else to phrase it beyond the simple plea.

Metro Man heaved a heavy sigh, his steely gaze avoiding his, pale eyes flitting off to the side to analyze some obscure spot in the corner of the room.

"I'm sorry," he said with a strained voice, finally swinging his gaze back down to Megamind. "I really am. Ummmm..." Another sigh, and he massaged the back of his neck. "I'm done," he shrugged helplessly, which seemed to be his go-to gesture when he was at a loss for what words to use. Megamind felt his jaw go slack.

He was... done? What did that even mean? How could he just be done? He was alive! He had a duty to help them save the city! He could go and battle Titan, and the city would be saved, and things would go back to the way they were! But this big doofus was for some reason saying he was done? Throwing in the towel?

Megamind had severely over-estimated his strength and staying power apparently.

Sensing the shock and confusion radiating off of Megamind, the taller man reached down and gripped him by the shoulders. Megamind was so shocked by everything that was happening, he could only stand and stare, not even flinching at the touch that normally meant pain and imprisonment. He felt like a small child, staring up at Santa Claus as the jolly old man took off his fake beard and explained he was actually Ted from Accounting, and he got $20 and a bottle of bourbon to wear a pillow under his shirt for an hour a day during the holiday season.

He felt betrayed. Disenchanted. Torn between being anger for the lies, and disappointed that this man couldn't live up to his expectations.

"You know, little buddy... There's a yin for every yang," Metro Man began, a quirky grin on his face. He tilted Megamind's slim shoulders to one side. "If there's bad, good will rise up against it," he explained, tilting him back the other way to compensate, like the arms of a scale levelling out. Megamind probably looked like a dumb struck dog, eyes wide and imploring, mouth slightly open. He could barely understand what was happening.

"It's taken me a long time to find my calling. Now it's about time for you to find yours."

Find his calling? Was Metro Man stupid? He knew what Megamind's calling was. He'd practically engineered it. Megamind was evil. That was all. He did evil things, he tried to take over the city, and he kidnapped the girl. That was who he was.

But that didn't really apply to who he had been the past few weeks, did it? Hadn't Roxanne pointed that out in the van? He wasn't acting very evil when he surprised her with the returned paintings, or when he tried to clean up the streets, or when he revealed little bits and pieces of himself to her during their game of questions. And he wasn't acting very evil by trying to protect the city. He could claim it was a matter of pride; that he was just trying to establish that he was the only villain allowed to attack Metrocity. But... it sounded like a weak excuse in his mind, when he realized he had a genuine concern for the inhabitants, for the structures, for the overall metropolis. He didn't want to see it in ruin.

If there is bad, good will rise up against it.

There was bad right now. Titan. He was destroying the city. And Megamind was trying to stop him.

Did that make him good?

"So, are you serious that you aren't even going to TRY and help us?" Roxanne asked Metro Man, and the hulking man worried his lower lip, his face an apologetic smile. He let his hands fall from Megamind's shoulders, but the slim alien felt as if the heavy weight remained as he cast his eyes down to the floor, mind racing.

"Roxie, I really would like to. But I just can't."

"Can't? Or won't?" she snapped.

"Please don't make this harder than it already is," the ex-Super Hero whined, turning around to take a small ukulele off the wall behind him, plucking at the strings slowly while avoiding their eyes.

"Harder? Do you know what's hard, Metro Man?" she hissed out his name like an insult. "Watching the city getting destroyed and knowing that its hero is hiding in his little cave, playing his silly instruments while people are suffering!"

"Roxie," Metro Man groaned, shaking his head. She pointed her finger at him, scrunching up her face.

"DON'T call me that," she snapped and then raked her hands back through her hair, breathing out a heavy puff of air, her face flushed red and she turned darkened eyes on the muscled man.

"You know what? Screw you Metro Man. We're wasting our time on you. Megamind and I are going to go and save the city, WITHOUT you," she said bravely, and suddenly grabbed Megamind by his bicep, tugging him bodily along so he stumbled up the few stairs leading out of the sunken den, and scrambled to keep up with her as she marched toward the door. Megamind cast a glance over his shoulder at Metro Man, who watched him with shame clear on his face, before he looked down again, fingers plucking out a slow, out of tune melody on the tiny instrument. The melancholy, flat string of notes was quickly shut out as Roxanne continued to drag him out of the room, the heavy iron door slamming shut behind them.

"I cannot believe him!" she was ranting, smoke practically fuming from her ears while her grip was like a vice on his arm, her nails digging into the muscle. Even in slippers that she still wore from her apartment, she was stomping along at a speedy clip, and he attempted to keep up, only wincing a little when she squeezed him even harder.

"Ah! Roxanne!" he gasped, his free arm pin wheeling and his boots slipping and sliding on the smooth concrete beneath him. "Either slow down or release me!"

She stopped dead, which only made him fall over again. She looked down at his arm, relinquishing her death grip quickly. He took back the appendage, rotating his shoulder and massaging the offended bicep with a small frown. Although it hurt, it was a somewhat promising development that she was touching him again. Not exactly the kind of touch he'd hope for, but she didn't seem to hate him as entirely as she once had.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I got carried away... He just made me so angry!"

"I can tell," he muttered dryly, inspecting the tight fabric covering his arm, to see if she tore it anymore than it was already ruined.

"I just don't understand why he would quit like that, and to fake his own death? What kind of an awful person does that," she shuddered, wrapping her arms around herself as if she were cold, walking along the hallway back toward the stairs that would lead them to the schoolhouse once again. He thought briefly about taking Metro Man's cape off his shoulders and wrapping it around her, but he stayed his distance, falling in step.

"I don't understand either. But it doesn't change things. Without him, there's no hope."

"What? What do you mean, there's no hope?" she asked as they walked side by side, not at all rushing to get to the stairs, as if they both knew that what awaited them above ground would make them wish they'd taken more time in the relative safety of the cool hallway.

"Without Metro Man, how are we supposed to defeat Titan?" he asked, raising his hands as if to look at them and hope they would magically become stronger. But they remained thin and long, clenching into fists so the torn material of his gloves ripped just a bit more, blue skin showing bright against the black.

"No, no, we can do something! I'm sure of it!" Roxanne insisted, reaching over and grabbing his hands, her eyes pleading while they stopped walking. He stared at her soft peach coloured fingers against his own and then he looked up at her.

She looked so hopeful, her expression earnest.

"Megamind, you're all the city has now. I know you can think up something to stop Titan."

He cringed and made a disparaging sound in his throat, tearing his hands away from hers while turning to march toward the stairs. He couldn't look at her while speaking, the colour of her eyes, her hair, her flushed cheeks, her tiny freckles distracting him.

"I can't Roxanne! I've tried already. I've never been able to defeat Metro Man. The one time I thought I had, it ended up being a sham! He was just using me as a convenient way to slink out of the spotlight. How am I supposed to beat Titan, when I couldn't even beat Metro Man?" he ranted, frowning as the steps leading up came into view, and he hurried to jog up each one, and he could hear the shuffle of her slippers on the stairs as she followed.

"Screw Metro Man! He's just a pathetic jerk who lied for his own selfish reasons," she replied, gesturing back behind them with both hands and he stopped mid stride to turn and glare down at her, his emotions riled and swimming in his head like a hundred bees, buzzing and flittering by so they blended into was a static white noise he couldn't begin to decipher. He couldn't sort one from the other, or find where one began and one ended. All he knew was that if he tried to stick his hand in, to sort them out, he'd get stung.

"And how is that any different from me, Roxanne? I lied to you to fulfill my own selfish needs," he reminded her bitterly and she blinked, then glanced off to the side unsurely. Emotions warred across her features, and she reached up to brush the hair back from her face, tucking it behind her ear. Eventually she looked back up to him.

"I... well, yea, but you're not like THAT," she said, jerking her thumb over her shoulder back toward the iron door.

"Then what AM I like, Miss Ritchi?" Another few beats of dead silence, as they stood on the stairs, him above her, glaring down.

"Look... things are awkward between us..." she started softly, mounting the few steps that stood between them so she came level with him at his side. He narrowed his eyes a bit at her.

Awkward was an understatement.

"But if you are the Bernard that I know, as well as Megamind... then at least you're the kind of guy who takes responsibility for his actions. You followed me after the restaurant to explain. You came back today, because Titan turned evil. THAT's the guy I'd rather have save our city. And that guy is a whole lot better than the bum sitting back there in that room."

"Well, THAT guy is the one you rejected, and THAT guy is the one who won't be playing hero today because he is an evil villain," he scoffed, shaking his head as he began to walk again, climbing out of the closet back into the school house room. Belatedly, he turned around and extended his hand for her to grab to step over the last step, all the while avoiding her eyes and trying to put on an air that it was a terrible inconvenience to him. It obviously didn't work, because she looked at the offered hand, smiling a little as she took it in her own and stepped out of the closet.

"Well, THAT guy still manages to act like a gentlemen despite being so supposedly evil," she remarked, releasing his hand and raising an eyebrow at him. He flushed purple and gave an undignified snort, marching ahead of her toward the door.

"That's the kind of guy I was starting to fall for."

The comment was in a bare whisper, but he picked it up in the relative silence of the building. It had been breathed out, like a last parting shot to convince him of something, to keep him there.

Stopping dead in the doorway, hand raised to touch the frame, his heart skipped several beats. He had to remind himself to breathe before looking back over the fur-rimmed cuff of the cape, seeing her standing near the closet door, gaze on the ground. Her one hand was touching her bangs that fell to shade her face. She moved her eyes up to him, peering through the veil of her hair in such an innocently alluring way, he almost turned back to embrace her. But he didn't. He gripped the doorframe hard.

"Starting to fall for?" he heard himself say darkly. "Miss Ritchi, you said so yourself. There's obviously no way you could ever be with me. Whether or not you were falling, or already fallen, I believe that ship sailed."

"Megamind..."

"I think maybe you're trying to make me into something I'm not, Roxanne."

"What if you're trying to be something that you ARE?" she asked, imploring, taking several steps toward him.

"I'M NOT A HERO!" he screamed suddenly, while spinning to face her, and she recoiled from his intense anger, fear in her eyes. Sighing, he let his head hang down, closing his eyes, leaning his high forehead against the edge of the door for support while he spoke.

"I'm not going to save the city. I'm not a super hero... I'm the super villain."

"Well someone has to save the city! Isn't that why you came to my apartment?" she countered, frowning at him, her chin raising an inch in the air in defiance. He glanced at her and had to smirk just a bit at her spunk. One second she was frightened, and in the next moment she was chomping at the bit to argue with him.

"I don't know what I was doing when I went running to your apartment, thinking I could find a way to defeat Titan," he admitted. "And now, without Metro Man?" He just shook his head while turning to leave the building.

"Hey, who needs him," Roxanne she said, chasing after him as they exited into the fading light of the afternoon on the grassy hill, and she stood at his side while he stopped, a pressure that had been building the entire afternoon making his shoulders ache and throb so he tried to roll them and alleviate the pain.

"We can beat Titan ourselves. I say we go back to the evil lair, grab some ray guns, hold 'em sideways and just go all gangsta on 'em!" she cried, positively bouncing in her spot while making some remotely odd motion with her hands that Megamind could in no way understand. She was over compensating. Switching to this bubbling, jumping persona to hide her fear. Trying to get him to agree to a fight by countering his despondency with over enthusiasm. But he could see through it. Her hopeful grin was nervous, her eyes pained, and her face filled with an embarrassed blush.

The emotions buzzed and hummed in his head, and that weight that remained since Metro Man had set his hands on his shoulders was only growing in size. He felt like Atlas, the world slowly crushing down on him bit by bit. It explained the dull ache in his back and neck. So very heavy, and it only grew and grew the more they talked about him somehow saving the city.

The weight was nearly oppressive on him now, and he grunted, quickly undoing the clasp of the fur-lined cape to let it fall uselessly to the ground, as he quickly and metaphorically shirked away the responsibility that came with the white colour of the fabric. It was a hero's cape. He wasn't meant to wear it.

"We can't..." he said miserably. He wasn't a hero! Couldn't she understand that? All of a sudden, he was being expected to leap into action, to fit into a Metro Man shaped hole in their world. To fit into her idea of 'that guy' who she could fall in love with. He was pulled in a million directions, and none of them felt right.

"So that's it. You're just giving up?" she asked, incredulous, the same tone she'd used on Metro Man minutes before. He turned on her then, the buzzing almost deafening in his ears, the heaviness still on his spine despite shedding the cape. He shouted at her, gesturing in his agitation.

"I'm the bad guy!" he exclaimed for what felt like the hundredth time that day. "I don't save the day! I don't fly off into the sunset..." he listed off, pacing back and forth on the gravel, and then he turned to fix his gaze on her intensely, his words steely and low.

"And I don't get the girl."

These were his reasons for not fighting. These were his reasons for giving up, as she called it. Could she blame him? He wasn't cut out for this! He was meant to be evil, be defeated, and be hauled back to jail. Not once in his life had he been heroic. He had no idea how to do that. And at this point, weary, exhausted, confused and feeling very entirely alone despite her company, he just wanted to go home.

Stronger men than he had given up recently. The best example sitting somewhere beneath their feet, strumming an instrument in a bath robe, trying to block out the realities above ground.

If Metro Man could turn and abandon his responsibilities, then Megamind could too.

"I'm going home," he said softly, almost weakly as he turned away from her and began to walk.

Megamind didn't have any responsibilities. He didn't have any duties. So it was easy for him to walk away, massaging at his shoulders to try and remove the pressure he felt there.

He was just the bad guy. No one expected him to be anything but that. It was his job to roll over and lose. It was his job to fail. He was just fulfilling his destiny. Couldn't she see that?


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes: **We are now officialy caught up on both and LJ Megamind community! YAY! So now it is all fresh material. Read here, or there. Doesn't matter! This chapter: The jail scene, and a bit of a teaser for next chapter... the Titan battle! My thoughts on how Megamind comes up with his plan, how it gets executed, and why it takes him so darn long to show up at Metro Man!  
**Disclaimer:** 'Megamind' and all its characters are owned by _Dreamworks. _I own nothing.

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**Falling Before Her Eyes**

_Chapter 10_

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Oh God. Oh God oh God oh God oh God. How could this be worse? It couldn't be worse. Really, it just couldn't.

OH GOD WHY DID HE THINK THAT! Whenever you think that, things ALWAYS get worse!

Oh Fuck. See? Of course! Now things are MUCH worse. Yea, that totally makes sense. Why not just pick up the top four tiers of Metro Tower? That's a totally justified action. Definitely not an over-compensation or anything.

NOT.

Oh Roxanne, WHY did you have to throw champagne? There'd been a glass of water not two inches to her right. Two inches. Seriously. Water wouldn't have messed up his hologram watch so miserably. Which means Megamind wouldn't be standing on a nearby building, watching Titan heft the shattered top of Metro Tower into his hands in preparation of hurling it down at both Roxanne and Minion, while he was desperately trying to get his watch to work to enact his plan.

Megamind watched with a mixture of pure terror and helplessness from his position several blocks down from the tower, struggling with the complicated technology in his trembling hands. He kept darting his eyes down to the watch and the small instrument he was using to fix it, and then back up to Titan looking like a mere pinprick under the broken shaft of the building, slowly turning so its radio antennae pointed down the cityscape, aimed toward the town's central water fountain.

Directly in line with the path Titan was setting his sights on, the major two lane street at the heart of Metro City's business sector cut a deep path, and Megamind was perched on the high rooftop of one of the prestigious law offices that was just to the left of the street before it diverged into the round-about circling the ornate fountain.

Sweat poured down his brow and neck, and he made a soft, strangled noise in the back of his throat, while hunched over the watch on his arm, its face flashing briefly with colour before dying yet again.

Come on come on come on! WORK DAMNIT!

He stabbed the small utensil hard against the choked and clogged circuitry, trying to dislodge the sugary residue that had encased itself around the mechanics from the champagne and rain damage it had suffered the night before. The watch gave a flicker of life then went black.

He nearly screamed in his frustration.

Why now? It had been working fine earlier, but as soon as he needed it, it decided to die. Now, of all times, when Titan was throwing the massive chunk of tower toward the street below, like a javelin capable of eviscerating the city, his watch just suddenly went lifeless on his wrist.

He watched with cold blooded horror as the spear Titan threw, made of several dozen stories of concrete, glass and rebar fell and crashed into the road below it with a thundering sound that sent shockwaves rippling through the streets, shaking the buildings and sending him to the ground with its force. He was up in seconds, fingers gripping the brick edge of the rooftop to view the destruction of the street coming toward him.

And tearing down that street at its fastest capacity was his black and blue accented hover bike, cerulean flames flaring from its exhaust. Mounted on its seat, using the only other functional holographic watch that they had at their disposal, Minion was carrying Roxanne to safety while disguised as Megamind himself, the engines of the hover bike roaring and reverberating between the buildings.

Roxanne was clinging to his shoulders, mouth opened as screams of fear were torn from her throat, looking over her shoulder at the havoc fast approaching on their heels.

The bike scraped and ground against the concrete with a flare of orange sparks as it struggled to maintain control while flying at its top speed, a tsunami of destruction licking at its back, tearing apart Metro City. The bike fishtailed and swerved, chunks and planks of concrete tearing off the street as the remains of the tower thundered forward, slicing and demolishing the buildings on either side of it, chasing the pair on the bike doggedly.

Megamind gasped, throwing himself forward to lean over the edge of the building so his stomach collided hard with the unforgiving low wall, eyes wide, face contorted in misery.

The spear-like tip of the Metro Tower was inches from the back of the bike, and Minion didn't look like he had enough control to avoid the approaching fountain at the circle's center.

They were going to crash. Roxanne and Minion. Both of them. They would crash and the tower would crush them.

Maybe he should have stayed in the prison.

Stayed where he belonged. Alone, in the solitary confinement room, the TV above him flashing blue and white static across his orange jumpsuit.

He'd given himself up shortly after leaving Roxanne at the School House. One bus ride with a terrified city transit worker had taken him to the gates of the prison and he willingly gave himself up to the Warden, arms stretched forward in a silent plead for handcuffs. The familiar weight of the metal around his wrists had calmed him, and shoulders slumped, he'd walked forward noiselessly for processing.

The normal routine soothed him. The inspection. Questioning. Strip search. Brutal cleaning. The paper work. His tattered battle suit was taken away, never to be seen again, and he was handed the folded, garish prison wear in a neat pile. He'd managed a weak, thankful smile at the scratchy feel of the fabric and had gone through the process without so much as a peep. He hadn't the energy to even try and resist it when they took him by the elbows and led him through the multiple gates to his once and forever home. The old chair sat waiting for him.

He was home.

Home where he had no responsibilities. No nasty buzz of feelings in his head that confused and pained him. No fur lined cape in all white to weigh heavily on his shoulders. No Roxanne pleading for him to help save the city. No one asking him to be anything he wasn't.

Here, he was expected to be evil, and that was all. It was simple. Black and White. You were a guard, or you were a prisoner. You were good, or you were bad. And he was back in his usual spot. He was bad.

And so he'd sat, bad and alone in the isolation room, chin resting on his fist while doing the only thing he was allowed to do; watch TV. The destruction of the city met him on each channel. He flicked by one after the other, never for more than a few scant seconds. The city in flames. Titan destroying everything. No hope. We need a hero.

"Sorry Metrocity. You have no hero," he stated sourly, pushing the worn channel button again, watching as more and more shots of the city flew by. One channel interestingly enough was showing a water-skiing squirrel. Odd decision on that channel's behalf, in terms of ratings. Probably get more viewers by showing the current events, but Megamind enjoyed a funny fluff news piece as much as the next person.

But had his name just been mentioned, on the channel before the aquatic rodent?

He flicked back one channel, his expression bland, old habits of searching for any mention of himself on TV causing him to pause and stare with disinterest at Titan's face, plastered close to the TV.

Imperceptibly, his eyes narrowed as he realized it wasn't some sort of old footage, but a live broadcast, Hal Stewart now finally in front of the camera as he addressed the blue genius directly.

What was this joker up to now?

"Megamind," Titan commanded boldly into the camera, pink hued clouds from the late afternoon sun showing on the horizon behind him. "You and I have some unfinished business."

Yea. Sure. Unfinished business being that Titan wanted to break his neck like a toothpick. Like Megamind was gonna go anywhere near him.

"I'll be waiting at Metro Tower."

Megamind snorted derisively. He had no intention of responding to the challenge to meet at Metro Tower. He was quite happy wallowing in self-pity and hatred right there in his swivelling seat. He was the bad guy. He didn't have to rush in to respond to heroic things like this. That was Metro Man's job, and you didn't see the big buffoon flying to the rescue. If it was alright for him to hide in his little underground School House, then Megamind could hide in jail.

"Oh and just so you don't get cold feet..." Titan smiled slowly, and began to pan the camera toward a figure, wind whipping their hair viciously as the camera jostled before focussing on-

"Roxanne," Megamind whispered softly, his eyes widening as he slowly took his hand away from the side of his face.

She kept her head down on the screen, a large spike of metal at her back, while a loop of bent pipe was crushing around her arms and middle, holding her in place to what Megamind could only assume was the radio receiver antennae found atop the Metro Tower downtown.

"Come on Roxie. Call for your hero to come rescue you," Hal's voice cajoled and teased from off camera, focussing the footage in on her face, shaded by her long bangs that fluttered and moved in the extreme wind. She refused to look up at the camera for a long moment, and Megamind's heart beat loudly in his ears. The buzz of emotions was all consuming and he felt his chest swell and then stop, as if he was holding his breath without knowing it.

For several seconds, he worried she had been injured to such an extreme that she was incapable of raising her head. But then, sadly, slowly, as if she had lost all hope, she flicked her gaze up through that veil of hair to stare into the camera. Blue eyes looked hollow, terrified, traumatized. Even more slowly, she raised her chin, brown hair turning copper in the afternoon sun, the high cold tornado of wind at the top of Metro Tower taking the strands and finally blowing them from her face so he could see the full distress etched into every inch of her bone structure.

His heart clenched, and he'd stopped breathing, lungs burning with the held oxygen within them.

He tried to sort through the barrage of emotions that struck him seeing her tear stained face, hair wild in the air and defenceless at the top of the giant building like a modern day Ann Darrow.

First, and most consuming of all, was the fact he was still in love with her. The mere sight of her sucker punched him in the gut and made him long for her all the more freshly. Despite the rejection, despite her mixed signals, despite her attempts to make him into something he wasn't, he still loved her. Adored her. Worshipped her. Pined for her. Lusted for her. He wanted her in every way. In any way she would give herself to him.

And this brought on the other emotions. Pain. Hurt. Anger. Sadness. Confusion. Aggravation. And then fear, at seeing this confusing, infuriating, soul crushing woman that he loved in peril, and he was helpless to do anything to save her. And he'd left her to this fate with his own selfish need to hide.

Guilt settled on him to blot out everything else.

"Megamind," she said softly in a voice that cut him off at the knees and left him a hollow shell of a man, ashamed at leaving her to fend for herself. She was speaking to him, blue eyes wide like a frightened child, staring into his through the television.

"I don't even know if you're listening..." she began sadly, weakly, but she looked up again and the fire flickered back to life in her eyes for the briefest moment. "But if you are, you can't give up."

She enunciated each word purposefully, leaning forward against her bonds that bruised and cut into her skin, like she was trying to crawl into the TV. It was as if she thought that her body language of desperation might make the plea more sincere.

"The Megamind I knew would never have run from a fight even when he knew he had absolutely no chance of winning," she said in an almost watery laugh. "It was your best quality," she gushed in earnest, doubled over as she leaned into the camera, her face animated in its honesty, eyes bright and wide, hair flying.

He swallowed heavily, his throat feeling tight and sore all of a sudden, as if he were struggling to stop his body from doing something. His eyes burned. He was trembling in his seat.

"You need to be THAT GUY, right now," she emphasized, staring into the camera intensely.

That Guy. That's what she'd said back at the School House.

That Guy who was better than Metro Man because he had tried to solve the Titan problem. That Guy who despite being evil, could still act as Bernard and truthfully care for someone other than himself whole heartedly. That Guy that she could fall for.

She was sending him a message.

She was begging him to save her and the city; that much was obvious. But he was the bad guy. The bad guy doesn't ride off into the sunset. The bad guy doesn't get the girl. And the bad guy certainly doesn't ride off into the sunset after SAVING the girl.

...Did he?

And what was the secret message? Why would she say that exact wording, so similar to that barely whispered confession that she had made in the dingy School House. The admission that she could see aspects of Bernard in him, and vice versa. The admission that she was starting to see the connections. The admission that she might have had feelings for him...

He couldn't even swallow his throat was so tight, his lips parted, staring unblinkingly at the screen.

Wait. She wasn't saying what he thought she was... was she?

A glimmer of hope bloomed in his mind despite his better judgment.

He felt like he was standing on the very edge of a precipice, waiting, waiting, waiting for something.

Roxanne, what are you trying to say? He had to know.

"The city needs you."

He learned forward slightly, the sudden desperate heartfelt urgency in her voice making him realize how close she was to saying something to him he'd dreamt of hearing his entire life.

Screw the City! This was more important than the city! More important than anything.

He knew what he wanted her to say. And every fibre of his being needed to hear it from her lips.

She let her head drop, hair covering her face.

Please Roxanne. Please say it. I don't care about the city. All I care about is... is...

She looked up.

"I need you," she whispered.

He shot up from his seat, his lungs filling greedily with air while electricity fired through every inch of his being.

"Roxanne." He gasped her name out, staring up at the TV.

She needed him.

No one had ever needed him. Wanted him. No one.

But she needed him.

"You have one hour. Don't keep me waiting," Titan said darkly, his face moving forward to blot out the image of his hostage, while she let her head fall down as tears filled her eyes and her grimace was covered by that veil of hair once again.

In an instant, he was up and banging on the door of his cell, screaming to be let out. The warden denied him, and what followed was a particularly humiliating speech on Megamind's behalf, but he didn't care. He could suffer the brief embarrassment of plastering his face against the glass of the porthole, whispering out a breathy apology for all of his wrong doings. As long as it got him out of that cell and to Roxanne's side within an hour's time.

There was something about having a beautiful damsel in distress whispering out that she needed you that put fire in your veins. It filled Megamind's head with grandiose thoughts of heroism, of racing to her side to save her and defeat Titan, although he had no clue how he'd do it. All he knew was that he had to do it now. He had no choice.

But he couldn't get out of jail.

The Warden was watching him with a stony, un-amused expression, unyielding in his decision to keep him in jail. And Megamind didn't blame him. After all the things he'd done? He'd probably do the same thing in the Warden's shoes. He'd destroyed things his entire life, and now he'd cut off his nose to spite his face. He'd destroyed the only relationships that ever mattered to him. Minion. Roxanne.

He owed apologies to them most of all. But Minion had left, with good cause. And Roxanne had been forced to try and solve the Titan problem herself which put her in the direct path of danger. And now, here he was. Paying for his crimes, apologizing for a life of depravity in order to receive the freedom he didn't rightfully deserve. And the one time he was finally sincere and honest with himself and others, no one was going to listen. And Roxanne was going to die.

He didn't blame them in the least.

But suddenly, a small little smirk twitched up the corner of the Warden's salt and pepper moustache, and he brought his arm into view through the porthole, a black banded watch on his wrist. He twisted its face, his image blurring with a blue light to reveal Minion's broadly smiling face pressed close to the side of his tank atop his robotic body.

"Apology accepted."

Minion. Glorious, accepting, perfect Minion. How lucky Megamind was to have such a friend in the world, one who would come back for him despite his treatment.

"I cannot believe you came back," Megamind said in response as they hurriedly exited the prison side by side after their reunion, aware that although the real Warden had been supportive of them racing off to save the city, Minion had still knocked out and tied up the aging man just outside of the cell he broke Megamind out of. Eventually, he would be freed and the guards would be sent after them. They had to obey the law, Titan or not. And Megamind was still an escaping prisoner, no matter his motivation for breaking out.

"Of course I came back, sir," Minion responded, raising his gorilla furred arm to point the remote of the keys in his hand at an empty expanse of road before them. The street side flickered, and Megamind thought for a moment of relief that the fish had been able to locate the invisible car! Sadly, that was not the case, and what came into view was a much less comfortable mode of transportation: Megamind's blue and black hoverbike. The main body of which looked more like the under-wing engine of a Bowing aircraft, and its seat was not exactly built for two riders. Definitely not the invisible car.

It was the best the large robot could do, and he shrugged his shoulders helplessly in apology.

Nonetheless, they climbed aboard, Minion at the helm while Megamind stood on the seat behind him, gripping onto his friend for support as they roared forward, careening down the long road from the outskirts of the city where the prison was located.

"After how I treated you... AGH! I should have listened to you! Now we have this mess!" Megamind groused, throwing his hands into the air with his guttural shout, only to clamber to grab a hold of Minion's furred shoulders again lest he fall off. Minion shrugged once more, turning his small body in his tank to view his master, one corner of his wide mouth dipping down in a lopsided frown.

"Well sir, hindsight is 20/20. What will we do now?" he shouted to be heard over the roar of the engine and wind.

"We do what we have to Minion. We have to save Roxanne and stop Titan!"

"But how?"

"I DON'T KNOW!" Megamind wailed, one hand gripping his head while squinting his eyes shut in a look of agony. The 'what' was always easy. It was the 'how' that normally caused some problems. "We have no clues as to Titan's weaknesses! Metro Man is in hiding and refuses to help!"

"Metro Man? Is he..."

"Yes, he's very much alive, and hiding beneath my old Shool House, playing the gee-tar."

"Wow. The School House? How ironic."

"YES! I know, right? Roxanne didn't really agree, but still! The ex-hero is officially in retirement. And I was so sure that we would find something of usefulness in order to defeat Titan. I thought if we found Metro Man's secret lair, we'd find some clue to his weakness! They have the same powers! It would make se-"

He went silent.

"Sir?" Minion asked, cautiously, glancing over at the blue genius behind him while he tried to focus on driving them toward the city, the bike flying along a few feet off the road below, exhaust and the sound of the motor echoing out around them.

"They have the same powers..." he repeated softly, staring at a distant point without focus. "That's it!" Megamind screeched and suddenly lunged over Minion. Minion screamed in shock, making the bike swerve violently for a moment while Megamind clamoured to grab Minion's left arm.

"SIR! What are you doing!" he cried, plastering his small fish body against the far side of his tank away from the megalomaniac, staring down at his master as he grabbed for Minion's watch, all the while trying to keep the bike from bouncing and crashing into the street below.

The watch on the cyborg's wrist was a more primitive model of Megamind's, which he still had on his own arm after they grabbed it on their way out of the prison. Turning the dial on the older, prototype model that Minion must have gone back to the lair to acquire, Megamind hurriedly flipped through the few limited disguises it held. The Warden, Megamind himself, and one bystander they had scanned for an experiment flashed by to cover Minion's usual form. Then, the last image came into view and Megamind smiled madly.

Metro Man sat astride the bike in Minion's place, his face contorted in a look of curious confusion, glancing down briefly at the white, gold and grey costume covering his bulging muscles. Megamind fairly giggled with glee, remembering how they had used the watch to scan Metro Man as part of another wicked scheme which had inevitably failed after they found that the prototype watch itself couldn't hold the image for more than an hour's time. They had had to find a different power source and thus were able to make the newer model, which Megamind held. They never got rid of the prototype, which was well enough since Minion had used it to help Megamind escape prison, and this watch was now integral to his steadily growing plan.

"Sir," Minion said with Metro Man's voice. "I really don't understand!"

Megamind ignored him, raising his own hologram watch to scan Minion's image, so that Metro Man was officially logged into the extensive list of disguises already at his disposal.

"It all makes sense!" Megamind cried, gesturing wildly with his hands, nearly fell off the bike yet again, and went back to wrapping arms and legs around his friend as an anchor. Minion flicked his watch to conserve the limited battery, his image shuddering back to his green-brown fish body, floating curiously in the tank of liquid atop metallic primate shoulders.

"Titan has Metro Man's powers!" Megamind explained, crying out over the sound of wind. "The only thing that could possibly beat him is Metro Man! Now, since Metro Man is unwilling to help us, we'll have to do the job for him. We'll PRETEND that Metro Man is here!"

"Sir... I'm... I'm still not following," Minion winced, turning the handle bar sharply to avoid a giant chunk of debris in the roadway as they approached the downtown sector.

"Hurry, Minion," Megamind cried, pointing out toward the industrial district of the city, leaning bodily over Minion's right side. "To the Lair! We have preparations to make! Code: I need to become a hero!"

The plan was simple. For Megamind at least. Minion seemed to struggle with the concept, blabbering on about how he wasn't sure it would work, and how dangerous it was, and how uncomfortable he was with his role. But after some cajoling, a lot of begging, and a little dab of appealing to the fish's sense of justice and caretaking tendencies, Megamind convinced him to play along.

The scheme was this: That Minion would distract Titan by using the old hologram watch to impersonate Megamind. This would give Megamind time to get into position. Titan's seething hatred for Megamind would keep him focussed on Minion far longer than any other distraction they could make in the limited time.

Minion was then to grab Roxanne and get her out of harm's way while Megamind, equipped with machine-made super strength, flight and speed, would use the Metro Man disguise in order to frighten Titan enough into leaving Metro City. He couldn't protect Roxanne himself while attempting to pull off the elaborate charade of impersonating his old enemy, so Minion's primary goal was to get Roxanne as far away from harm as possible.

It wasn't a physical weakness that Megamind had decided to use against Titan, since he knew he couldn't defeat him in hand-to-hand combat, but the psychological fear of being faced with a super hero with similar powers, and seemingly years more experience in using them. Hal may have had the strength of a God thrust upon him, but beneath it all, he was still a weak minded camera man, whose motivation to scare others was so like the bullies of Megamind's past. And Megamind had learned a lot about bullies.

There was always a bigger fish in the pond. Bullies were scared of even bigger bullies.

"Sir, the Brain Bots are ready," Minion interrupted and Megamind looked up, hurriedly scrambling into the jet pack that would assist in him achieving Metro Man's speed and flight capabilities. He clipped it into place with a glowing emblem at the front, his trademark 'M' symbol encased in blue glowing faintly on his chest.

"Excellent! Everything is ready, and we have five minutes left," Megamind replied, glancing at his watch to ascertain how much more of the one hour time limit was left that Titan had given them. Cutting it a bit short. But it couldn't be avoided.

The preparations had taken longer than he thought, and he'd been rushed to construct the equipment capable of imitating Metro Man's powers. Two gauntlets circled his wrists and hands, crudely fashioned metal on one to simulate Metro Man's iron like punches, and a rotating saw blade affixed to the other, in case he needed to inflict some actual damage for show. They were messily fabricated, comprised of mostly scrap metal and left over parts that they'd foraged from the lair in a mad dash. The jet pack was the only thing they'd already had prepared for this event, and Megamind was glad of it. Neither of the contraptions covering his hands were his best work.

They wouldn't hold up in an actual fight, that was for sure, but if Megamind's plan went as it should, he didn't need to fight. Just to act.

He looked up at the high Metro Tower across from them, standing atop the Law Office he had decided would give him a good enough view of the scene so he could make sure that Minion got Roxanne to the specified hide-away, and he could swoop in to do his best impersonation of Metro Man.

"Sir," Minion said again, softly, his voice weak and unsure. "I don't know if this will work," he added in a small voice. Megamind looked at the concerned fish and sighed heavily.

"I know Minion. It's a gamble. But we have to do it." And to enforce it all the more, he reached over the spun the dial on Minion's watch, so the fish's physique melted away so Megamind felt like he was looking into a mirror, his own blue visage staring worriedly back at him.

"But Sir..." he heard his own voice say, in a Minion-esque way, and the disguised robot twiddled his long black gloved fingers together awkwardly, blue lips pulled down in an expressive pout. "What if... what if Titan sees through the disguise, and you die, sir?"

Megamind smiled a little sadly, reaching to spin his own watch so that he suddenly appeared taller, his voice coming out as a low baritone. He reached a white tassel covered hand out to touch his friend's shoulder.

"Code: I won't die," he said from behind the image of Metro Man's body.

Minion smiled back at him from within his own Megamind disguise.

"Code: That's a good plan, sir."

"Don't let Roxanne die either," Megamind added quickly, pointing at the fish, who nodded his large blue head quickly.

"Of course sir. I'll protect her with my life."

"...Don't you die either."

"I'll try not to sir."

"So just to reiterate. No one dies. That's the goal."

"Yes sir. A fine goal. Good luck."

"You too," Megamind said, and then watched himself, controlled by Minion, mount the hover bike perched on the roof beside them, a litter of Brain Bots at his side softly bowging out their farewells before the group left him alone, standing in his Metro Man hologram to wait for the inevitable time he would step into the spotlight.

And the waiting was torturous. He had that feeling as if he were playing hide and go seek, peering through the crack of the closet door to try and see if anyone was coming for him.

The anticipation suddenly made your bladder react as if you'd been drinking nonstop for eight hours, so you danced from foot to foot, swearing that if someone didn't come and find you in the next three seconds, you were going to do something terribly embarrassing all over the floor of that closet. But no one ever came. So the feeling lingered and you danced and hopped and whined and whimpered until you finally couldn't take the waiting one second longer and you leapt out to find a bathroom, only to bump right into the other kid who was 'it'.

Megamind couldn't afford to leap out and be caught with his pants down, so he forced himself to endure the terrible lengthy wait, feeling utterly helpless to do anything from his vantage point as rock music blared into the air, Brain Bots adding a spectacular light show while Minion did a fairly on-point imitation of his master.

Did he really talk like that? And those gestures? Was that how he looked?

It was a curious experience to be watching himself from the sidelines. But it was all for a good cause. Roxanne.

Finally, after what felt like ages to him, Minion was able to drop down onto the hover bike waiting below him and his swarm of Brain Bots, revving the engine loud as he tore through the air to Roxanne's aid as Metro Tower began to tip and fall forward. Megamind was on his watch instantly, barking out an order for the Brain Bots to help stabilize the tower, but they're limited strength didn't do much beyond buy the pair a couple extra seconds. It was long enough, because Minion soon had Roxanne in hand and was carrying her to safety.

And that was when Megamind heard the watch on his wrist give a whine of exertion, before his Metro Man disguise melted away and he was left staring at his own hands in shock and horror.

And now, he was watching his best friend and the love of his life about to be crushed by a building.

* * *

Note: Sooo bit of a cliff hanger, but we all know what happens... :P I wanted to give a note at the end of this chapter to ask that people help me out with how the last chapter of this story (Chapter 12) will go, as it will be an entirely non-canon filler chapter for what happens after the 'Back You Savages' line. So I wanna hear from you! In your comments/reviews, tell me whose perspective you'd like the final chapter to be from! Roxanne, or Megamind? Shall I keep going with Megs point of view, and let you know how he experiences his first real victory? Or do you want to catch up with Roxanne about what she's thought of the whole journey? So post either "Roxanne" or "Megamind" at the top of your comment, and I will tally the votes for the next two chapters and then get to writing based on your responses. Please, don't double vote on both LJ and . Thanks!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes: **We have reached the second to last chapter folks. We're nearing the end. This is not my best chapter, by any stretch of the imagination. And it ends on literally the SAPPIEST last few lines ever written. They are horrible. I am ashamed. I am also on drugs after surgery. Blegh. Thanks for reading! If you haven't already please vote for whose perspective chapter 12 should be in: Megamind or Roxanne.  
**Disclaimer:** 'Megamind' and all its characters are owned by _Dreamworks. _I own nothing.

* * *

**Falling Before Her Eyes**

_Chapter 11_

* * *

Again, his plan had failed. Megamind had tried, and failed, this time in the worst possible way.

The tower was inches from Minion and Roxanne's backs now, and the crash was inevitable. They were roaring down the street on the hover-bike, careening this way and that as the bike began to lose control and power. The inevitable was coming. Titan was watching with cruel satisfaction from high above, as the tower he had thrown was going to swallow the duo up in chaos.

Megamind felt as if he was suddenly plunged into ice as he realized the worst was about to occur. They wouldn't be able to avoid it and he couldn't do a damn thing about it. All because the watch on his left hand would no longer show the image of Metro Man that would effectively scare Titan into abandoning his quest for city-wide domination. Without that disguise, the one chance they had of defeating him was gone.

And Megamind's one chance at a happy life, with Roxanne and Minion by his side, were dashed as well as that building struck them.

But at the last second, Minion threw Roxanne from the bike so she bounced and rolled off an awning out of the path of destruction. She hit the ground, and was able to raise her head, so the vice on Megamind's heart relaxed a quarter turn.

However, the move sent the bike and Minion tumbling in the air toward the fountain at the town's center, directly in the path of the Metro Tower, grinding to a halt in a cloud of dust and debris, a thunderous crunch and crash echoing in the town's center.

The tower hit.

The earth shook and boomed.

Then it all went quiet.

Oh Minion, you promised you wouldn't die!

Megamind felt like he was choking, gasping for breath with what he later discovered was sobs, as the dust settled and Minion, still within his disguise, lay motionless in the rubble with the needle like tip of the tower's antennae skewered through his mid-section. The hologram showed no blood, but Megamind was able to guess the damage his robotic friend must have incurred from the wound. No doubt his metallic torso would be ruined, and his circuitry that maintained the water he needed to survive in his tank would have been entirely destroyed by the impact. The fish could survive without the filtration system attached to his back for a couple hours, but if his upper tank were to have shattered... Time was of the essence.

He fumbled and scraped and hit his watch violently, eyes cloudy and struggling to see past moisture he wasn't aware had formed. He was trembling from head to toe, his breath sounding ragged to his own ears.

This plan was going all wrong!

His plans normally went all wrong, but he couldn't handle it now. Not today. Not when so much hung in the balance.

And not when Roxanne was racing to Minion's side, and was directly in the path of Titan as he landed, spotting the running woman and then eyeing an overturned bus with devious intent.

"WORK!" Megamind shouted in desperation, slamming his wrist against the concrete edge of the building, and instantly, the hologram zapped back into life, covering his blue and black clad body with the image of Metro Man in all his white and gold glory.

Elation sang in his veins as he gave a whoop of victory, instantly pushing off with his feet as the jet pack's burners ignited into life behind him. He flicked his wrist hard so the saw blade on his right arm whirred into life, just as Titan stepped forward and booted the prone bus toward defenceless Roxanne with the intent to crush and kill her.

Dropping down a few yards ahead of her in a crouching position to absorb the blow, Megamind held out his right arm with the blade attached, cutting through the metal and glass of the vehicle as it was propelled toward him, engaging a laser at the same time to help with splitting the bus in two.

It hurt like a bitch.

The saw blade was in no ways large enough to cut through an entire bus, and even with the added support of the laser helping to melt through the steel shell of the city transit vehicle, he was still working against the resistance and momentum of a 14 ton structure. He skid backwards and bit back a scream as he tried to support his arm with his other one, feeling like the weight of the bus pushing into him was going to snap his forearm like a toothpick. But finally, the back of the bus came into view as it split to either side, and he struggled to get his breathing under control as he kept his head bent.

At this angle, he could peek back past the flowing white cape on his shoulders to see Roxanne, uninjured, staring at him slack jawed.

She was safe.

Show time.

Slowly, with all of the practice of a seasoned actor, he ignored the pain in his arm from slicing apart the bus, and stood up to his full height as Metro Man. He pushed forward his barrel-sized chest the way he'd seen Metro Man do, forming his lips into a smarmy smirk while he stared right at a very shocked Hal Stewart.

"Please," he began with the rich, velvety sound of Metro Man's voice booming from his holographic throat. "Let's have a little respect for public transportation."

That sounded sufficiently Metro Man-ish. At least enough that Titan looked as if he'd wet himself.

"You came back!" Roxanne said suddenly behind him, and Megamind whipped his head back to look at her. At the joy on her face. He felt those loving feelings flood his system all over again as he smiled in reaction. Then he caught a glimpse of himself, Megamind, laying in a pile of broken concrete several feet behind her.

And then his heart felt crushed within his chest.

She was happy to see Metro Man. Not Megamind. Megamind, or Minion rather, was laying potentially very injured (although Megamind saw movement from the figure in the distance that made him hopeful Minion was still alive) and Roxanne wasn't even glancing back in that direction, her eyes all for the muscled Wayne Scott in front of her.

Had he ever had a chance with her, if this was her reaction? If she cared, wouldn't she be at his (or Minion's) side? Seeing if he was even alive?

Granted, she'd almost gotten crushed by a bus mere seconds before, so he supposed she owed Metro Man some gratitude. And Metro Man arriving would herald the salvation of the city from her perspective.

Still, he'd like to see a bit of allegiance to him, if what he'd gotten from her last broadcast was true. That she had feelings for him. Maybe he'd read her signals all wrong...

He wanted to turn off the disguise, demand an answer, hear her say those words again in front of him so he knew they were true.

"You were right Roxanne, I never should have left," he said instead, trying on a half smile that felt wooden on his face. The words could have been spoken by him or Metro Man; it would have worked either way. But he hoped in some small way, she knew it was from the real him, and that he was sorry he'd abandoned her. She had been right all along. That he should have stayed to help. Then they wouldn't be in the mess they were in.

Whether she truthfully cared about him or not didn't really matter at that moment.

Defeating Titan took priority, and then he could deal with the murky uncertainty that came with emotions.

"Oh... I thought you were dead," the evil villain behind him stammered, and Megamind turned back to grin smugly at the ginger-haired man, making a great show of flexing Metro Man's muscles while shifting his feet to face toward him in a very heroic stance.

"My death was... greatly exaggerated," he purred with Metro Man's voice, chuckling to himself at the way it sounded, and the appropriate look of panic that his knuckle cracking brought from Titan.

"So you're the punk I've heard about," Metro Man drawled out after standing with feet shoulder width apart, gloved hands coming to rest on his svelte hips and just for show, he raised on dark eyebrow dramatically toward the hairline of his perfectly coiffed hair. And then he flexed his calves. Hard.

Yea. That's right. Even my CALVES are dangerous. What man has dangerous calves? Metro Man does. And for the moment, Megamind was Metro Man, and he was going to use every trick he had to get his point across.

Titan reacted as Megamind predicted, and he ran like he was being accosted by the Hounds of Baskerville themselves. He jetted high into the air and weaved in between the buildings. Squatting for a moment, Megamind quickly pushed himself up as the propulsion equipment attached to his back switched on. Kicking off the ground, he poured on the power from the jet pack and soared through the air after Titan, ducking and weaving through the city in hot pursuit.

The red headed villain was scrambling through the air as if he could claw his way to safety, alternating between flying with arms outstretched, and then reverting back to his favoured position of flying as if he were still driving his news van; hands at ten and two on an imaginary steering wheel, feet forward to reach pedals that weren't there. Megamind however, knew how to fly properly, fists thrust forward, stomach to the ground, perfectly aerodynamic.

Just like Metro Man.

How long had he spent trying to get Hal to imitate the stance, attempting to teach him it cut down on wind resistance, offered more control, and just plain looked more heroic than pretending he was driving Chitty Chitty Bang Bang with an invisibility mode?

Flying as he was, jet pack working noiselessly behind him, Megamind caught up quickly, soaring just a few feet above Hal where he was out of his peripheral vision.

"Going somewhere, besides jail?" Megamind asked smoothly, shifting to a lounging position in the air, one hand supporting his head, one knee crooked as if he were displaying for a Calvin Klein commercial. He flashed a dazzling grin. Hal shrieked in fear and darted off in another direction.

Megamind quickly activated a boost of speed on the jet pack, sailing to cut Titan off as he rounded another building, bringing them back to the town's center. Dropping down in front of Hal, he seized the man by the front of his orange and white costume, pulling back his opposite fist threateningly. Titan shrank back, babbling out a plea.

"If you know what's good for you Titan," Megamind snarled in Metro Man's booming voice. "You'll stay out of Metrocity. For good!"

"You got it!" Titan stuttered, slipping out of Megamind's grasp before he flew off with a sonic boom of speed in his wake.

Megamind watched him fly into the horizon with a growing sense of disbelief.

He'd done it. He'd actually succeeded in frightening Titan away. He'd actually, really done it!

The crowds below him began to cheer and leap with joy, the sound so foreign to Megamind that it took him several long seconds to figure out that they were cheering for him.

He looked down at his thick, muscled hands, the white fabric of tasselled gloves stretching over his digits.

No. They weren't cheering for him. They were cheering for Metro Man.

Turning to face the groups of civilians moving toward him, he began to slowly descend toward the street again, his eyes focussing in on the one face he cared about from the sea of city dwellers.

Roxanne was walking toward him, her smile smug and pleased, head tilted to one side so the late day sun shone brilliantly off her hair. He chanced a small smile back at her, his heart heavy with the fact it was Metro Man smiling at her, and not really him.

And it was Metro Man that she was reaching her hand out to.

He stared at her fingers, and then up at her eyes again, confusion setting in, but he raised his hand in reply nonetheless, hovering his palm over hers unsurely. She curled her fingers twice in a motion for him to continue, and obediently he complied, letting the large holographically enhanced hand fall into hers. She brought her fingers securely around his and he could feel the warmth of her skin even through his gloves. He flashed back to his time as Bernard, sharing such moments with her, and he lamented over the fact that even now, he still hadn't even held her hand as just himself. Always a disguise.

And this only reinforced his growing realization that she was happy that Metro Man had come back to her aid, and not Megamind. Her expression of joy at his first appearance was just the beginning. Now, with Megamind's carcass not a few yards behind them, she still wanted to hold Metro Man's hand instead. Even in death, he lost to Metro Man.

She'd never care for him. He'd been fooling himself, thinking she'd been giving him some sort of sign through her television broadcasted plead. She just used it to motivate him to come out of hiding. He'd read too far into things. She didn't care.

But then, to his great shock, she quirked her head to one side, that smug smile growing on her face. And her free hand came up to his watch, gripping the face and spinning it expertly, her other hand still holding his securely as if to keep him from pulling away.

He gave a slight gasp, which was echoed by the crowds around him, as the hologram dissipated and he was left hovering over the ground, blue and lanky, eyes wide and staring.

Roxanne smiled brilliantly up at him.

She was showing everyone that it was him.

She knew it was him, and not Metro Man! She was willingly holding HIS hand! His whole body warmed with realization, and feelings so strong, he couldn't help the look of joy that captured his face, chest swelling with delight.

Megamind's smile was slow, and heartfelt as he gazed down at this wonderful, gorgeous woman who took a step closer to him, still gripping his hand in both of hers now.

And if he didn't know any better, she looked like she wanted to start smooching up a storm.

Her lips parted and she was close to him now, as if she were preparing to speak, except her eyes suddenly tracked over his right shoulder, going wide with something akin to fear.

"Pretty sneaky, sis," came a familiar voice behind him, and Megamind felt a cold sweat grow on the back of his neck. "There's only one person I know who calls this town Metrocity."

"Oops," was Megamind's unintelligent response, quickly turning around to place himself in front of Roxanne protectively, arms spread. His brain scrambled to assimilate this new information and formulate some sort of plan.

Titan had returned and was glaring fiercely at them both, his anger only ten-fold with the fact that he had been tricked. He took a threatening step forward and Megamind reacted on instinct, growling and doing something he normally didn't do.

Love makes you do crazy things apparently. The idea that Titan might get close to Roxanne, and in some way hurt her made Megamind ball his fasts up, and he dashed forward, aiming one punch at Titan's midsection, and a second right hook across his jaw.

He was not a hand-to-hand combat sort of guy. Especially not when fighting against a Super powered man with invulnerability on his side. But there he was, trying to punch something that couldn't even feel pain. Idiot.

He promptly regretted the decision as the metal around his hands crumbled like tin foil, and jarring pain radiated through his whole arms. It was like punching a steel wall. Titan had at least moved his head to the side with the blow to lessen some of the impact, but Megamind pulled his fist back with a garbled sound of agony coming from his lips, hands shaking and throbbing.

"Bet you think it's really funny huh?" Titan growled, slapping Megamind's arms out of the way before grabbing him and roughly hurling him down the street. His metal weaponry flew from his hands as he crashed into the side of a car, slumping against its hood with a gasp of pain, a grimace covering his face.

"Let's all laugh at the really cool guy," the villain went on, and Megamind looked back in time to see his eyes burn red like embers before a beam of laser energy blasted toward the blue man. Pushing back quickly from the car, he felt the burn of the laser scorching the air where he had just seconds before been standing. Engaging the thrusters on his jet pack, Megamind struggled to stay ahead of the beam, pulling his legs in close to his body, ducking and weaving as Titan glared him down.

"You're not going to be laughing for long!" the red head shouted, hefting a vehicle over his head while continuing to blast him with laser vision. Megamind leapt out of the way, gasping for breath, struggling to see a way out of the situation. But with debris, cars, bikes and mopeds bombarding him, coupled with red laser blasts, he could barely keep up let alone think at a time like this.

Crap crap crap OW LASER crap crap shit crap DAMNIT!

"Hey, remember that night that I dumped you?" Roxanne suddenly shouted, and Megamind nearly fell over in his shock, staring back at the woman as if she were insane. He scrambled to keep up with Titan while responding.

"You're bringing this up now?" he screamed back.

Was she freaking nuts? Had she knocked her head during the escape with Minion? Surely, she could see he was a little bit busy. And why the hell would she bring up that terrible night? Was this some sort of motivation technique? It was a pretty crappy one, if it was! It didn't make him want to fight, it made him want to curl up in a ball and cry.

"Well I did look back!"

"You did?" he asked at first softly, ducking to avoid a bicycle. Then he repeated it more loudly, leaning forward, hope blossoming in his chest despite the situation.

If she'd looked back... that meant she cared!

Oh my God, this proved she actually cared!

AHH! Laser beam!

"Yes and you should look back, right now!" she screamed, hands cupped around her mouth. Megamind blinked, chanced a glance over his shoulder and then he saw it. The faint outline of rubble and dust shimmering off of... nothing. Nothing, that was in the shape of a car. An invisible car. THE invisible car. The car that held the gun that had started this all.

If she had looked back that night, it meant she'd seen the corner where she'd left him. And that corner was where he had left the invisible car and had been unable to find it ever since.

God how he loved that woman.

"Ohh! I get it," he exclaimed, and quickly turned to race toward the street corner, vowing to thank her for her quick eyes and even quicker thinking later, once this was all solved. If only he could get to the car in time.

He powered up the jet pack one last time, fist raised forward only to feel an explosion at his back that sent the propulsion system flying into the air in flames, and sent him crashing to the ground in a tumbling ball. He bit back a curse as he hit the street hard, yet again, and he groaned, struggling to stand up.

Suddenly, a foot crashed down hard between his shoulder blades, ramming him into the street so the air was stolen from his lungs and he saw stars when his cheek bone and nose collided with concrete. Blood spurted from his face and he gave a ragged gasp. He was lifted up off the ground by the front of his suit, held aloft by Titan who snarled at him with a dark chuckle.

"This is the last time you make a fool out of me," Titan vowed menacingly, pulling his fist back in preparation of punching Megamind point blank.

Megamind glanced back over his shoulder, vainly trying to see the invisible car behind him. He was still too far away. He had to get to that car, in order to grab the Defusor Gun, and yet the look on Titan's face said that he was not going to willing let Megamind go unless it was to pummel him to death with both of his hands.

What Megamind needed was a way to get himself closer to the car, and to put some distance in between the two.

He took a deep breath and already started to cringe at what he had to do.

"I made you a hero... You did the fool thing all by yourself," he spat back in the villain's face and then turned his head away, bracing himself. And as predicted, Titan's face became a mask of rage, pulling his fist back even further.

Megamind waited for the hit he knew would come. Based on how Titan had been standing, the punch he was intending to give would have been one that slammed Megamind into the ground. It would have been a punch meant to hurt. But, by feeding on the anger that Megamind knew Titan had, especially when he was taunted, this new arm position was a more violent, reckless and powerful thrust that would, hopefully, send him sailing away a good distance.

Titan used the flat of his hand to slap Megamind right in the breast bone of his chest, sending him flying back into the wall of the building at the corner of the street, the plaster and brick crumbling and cracking around him. He slumped to the ground, struggling to breathe, to see, to hear. Mission accomplished, but at a painful cost, he reflected, seeing the shimmer of the invisible car's illusion technology in front of him.

He felt like his sternum had been shattered, and his lungs were refusing to cooperate. His heart made an odd murmuring thump that seemed to skip beats and then wrestled its way back into a regular rhythm. His head swam and he felt hot liquid at the back of his large scalp from where his cranium had collided hard with the wall.

Wheezing, but glad that his plan had worked, Megamind turned on his side weakly, and began to drag himself toward the door of the invisible car that Titan still hadn't noticed. With the help of the wall, he eventually found his way to his feet, although his head swam and he tasted blood rolling around on his tongue.

"You're so pathetic," Titan was laughing, already advancing on him. "No matter what side you're on, you're always the loser."

"There's a benefit to losing," Megamind replied raspily, hands splayed to either side of him on the wall as he felt blood dribble out the corner of his lips, his words peppered with a ragged cough. "You get to learn from your mistakes..." and he lunged forward, wrenching open the car door and sliding across the black leather seats, adrenaline making him worry less about his injuries and focus more on snatching the gun from the back of the car as he went. Plastering himself against the driver's side door, he then glanced down at the small light on the side of the machine, gleaming orange with the words 'Warming Up' emblazoned on its side.

He really needed to stop letting Minion be in charge of the power sequence for his weaponry. Seriously? He would fry that fish himself if he lived to see another day.

Titan's fist crashed through the metal door of the vintage car mere inches from Megamind's head, and he scrambled to grab hold of the arm rest, pulling his legs in close as Titan bodily tore the door from its frame, Megamind attached. Megamind peered through the window, down at the villain as he scoured the now empty cabin with door still in hand, before finally glancing back at the door on his arm, narrowing his eyes menacingly at Megamind.

A nervous chuckle bubbled out of his thin blue throat, and with a sheepish smile at the futility of the action, he pressed down the lock lever of the door. Somehow, it made him feel better.

Until Titan hurled the whole door, including him, up into the stratosphere. Then, locking the door seemed like a pretty stupid move when he could have just run.

He clung to the door while screaming his lungs out, spinning with the metal and glass structure as he soared higher and higher into the sky. Eventually, his grip on the door slipped, as well as his grip on the Defusor Gun, so they tumbled out of his grasp and spun in the air around him. Then gravity kicked back in, and he felt his stomach flip flop as he first became weightless, and then began the drop back to the city below.

Not his best day, by far. Really quite an unfortunate 24 hours to be entirely honest.

An unfortunate life, when you got down to brass tacks. And he couldn't blame all of that on circumstances.

Sure, he'd been dealt a raw hand. He was an orphan. He was an alien. He was raised in a prison. He was the victim of prejudice and racial discrimination in one way or another.

But he had a considerable gift, and he'd squandered it.

Whatever hand Destiny had given him, he hadn't even looked at the cards before he folded without so much as placing a bet. He'd given up on himself long before anyone else had, and he'd made a mockery of his own life.

And now, here he was, falling to his death. Definitely about to die, pretty much on the same day that he'd decided to turn it all around.

He had what some would have called a near-death experience as he fell from heaven, arms pin-wheeling and vainly trying to grasp for the gun above him.

He felt his life flash before his eyes in a dizzying blur of colours, images, sounds and feelings. All of his failures, his regrets, and his pain welled up quickly from within, interspersed with the brief moments of joy, happiness and calm. They were few and far between, those good memories, but they seemed more powerful than the rest. They shone brighter, and lingered in his mind's eye.

He saw Minion's smiling face, filled with approval and unconditional love, staring up at him through the small glass sphere of his youth.

He flashed to a prison cell bright with pieces of artwork and designs, loose leaf paper hanging from the walls, the bars and every inch of available space while crayons rolled on the cold floor he lay on.

He heard the spark of electricity, the arc of a welding torch, and the bubble of liquids in beakers and test tubes echoing in the background when he held his newest invention in his hands with rapt amazement.

He recalled dancing up the steps of City Hall, filled with pride at his first real victory, music singing out his joy.

And then, Roxanne.

Her smile, her eyes, the way her body moved, the feel of her chest against his and her arms around his neck, the softness of her lips, and the flow and shine and ripple of her auburn hair.

Every second with her passed by him at rapid speed, like a tape stuck on fast forward. Every kidnapping, every moment, every aching nanosecond of pining for her and every glorious minute of being near her. He saw her looks, her frowns, her smiles, her laughs, and in a kaleidoscope, every hair flick, touch, brush and blow.

And to think, he'd never once gotten to touch her hair as just himself. As just Megamind. And now?

What was there left now, but a gruesome death splattered on the streets below?

Her image stayed fresh, burned into the frontal lobe of his brain so he couldn't erase it.

And what would happen to Roxanne? And to Minion?

Titan would destroy them. And Megamind was helpless to do anything.

NO.

His eyes flashed open, burning with intensity as the wind whipped fiercely around him as he fell.

He was through with being helpless! He was through with failing! Not today!

His mind went into overdrive as he took stock of his situation. There had to be hope! He glanced back over his shoulder toward the rapidly approaching city below as he continued to fall, and his eyes homed in on the fountain that Roxanne and Titan were currently moving toward.

WATER!

His hand reached up, clutching a hold of the Defusor Gun that finally came within his floundering reach, while his left hand pulled his De-Gun from its holster. He spun it against his opposite arm, so the chamber bubbled and popped and pinged until he flicked it so it finally settled on the correct setting: Dehydration.

He angled his body, projected the proper flight pattern, calculated his speed, adjusted for gravity and wind resistance and then turned the De-Gun into his chest and pulled the trigger.

Instantly, a wash of cold came over him as he had the brief delight of watching his chest and limbs turn a sparkling blue before his world went black. Then light exploded all at once without a moment in between, water sliding down his body as he appeared, standing shin deep on the fountain's basin.

He knew that several seconds probably went by as his form was transformed into that of the shining blue cube, before it dropped from the heaven's and fell into the fountain with a soft plunk. But to him, suspended in time, he hadn't experienced any change whatsoever, so he quickly stretched out his arms to catch the weight of the now officially warmed up Defusor Gun once he re-hydrated in the center of the fountain, facing his nemesis with an eyebrow arched in challenge.

"Ollo," he said with a wicked smile, as Titan stood before him, eyes burning red with laser vision about to be fired on Roxanne who was inches behind Megamind, huddled against the fountain's center.

Titan blinked in shock, eyes going wide, just at Megamind took the Defusor Gun and rammed it home to where Titan's power had first been bestowed upon him; somewhere lodged in his left nostril. Pulling the trigger, and dragging back on the plunger of the gun, Megamind watched as Titan wailed and squirmed while the syringe like gun extracted every last drop of Metro Man's powers from Hal's body, golden light shining around them both. Titan shrank and shrank, arms flailing, as Megamind gritted his teeth against the force needed to hold Titan aloft while operating the gun.

And then, it was over.

Deflated, powerless and significantly smaller and fatter, Hal Stewart slumped to the ground with a groan, Megamind panting while clutching the gun now filled with Metro Man's powers in his hands, staring down at the golden light held in its chamber, and then back at Hal.

"Thing about bad guys," Megamind shouted at the cameraman with vigour, pointing rather weakly and almost falling over from the exertion of the day catching up to him. "They always LOSE!"

The moment just felt like it needed some witty banter. It was a nice touch.

"You did it," Roxanne breathed out with wonder, as Megamind turned to look at her, letting the Defusor Gun slip from his grasp to lie in the water along with his De-Gun. His eyes were riveted on her, relief flooding his body to see that, although her white tank top was smudged with dirt and grime, a few small tears showing in the fabric, she was otherwise entirely uninjured.

"You won," she went on, smiling brilliantly at him. Only him.

Not Metro Man. Not Bernard. Not some other disguise, but him and only him.

"Well I finally had a reason to win. You," he replied simply, his smile small and a bit timid, but his heartfelt sentiment plain on his face.

He watched her eyes crinkle in an ever expanding smile, their blue depths turning shimmery with moisture before her grin split into a full smile and she suddenly lunged forward. Her arms went around his neck, her body tight against his with a forceful hug that made him stagger back for an instant in surprise, hands instinctively going around her.

Then, with eyes wide and filled with wonder, he held her, wrapping his arms easily around her slim body, in glorious surrender to the feeling of her closeness, the smell of her perfume, and the feel of her hair against his cheek and neck. There was no hologram in the way, no lie to cover who he was.

Just him.

Only him.

He closed his eyes, smiling contentedly while laying his face close against her neck, listening to the soft little sigh that escaped from her.

In the rain that night, she'd said he made her have feelings for him. Then, she'd whispered it out at the school house. On public television, she'd made allusions to it when she begged for his help. If he didn't already know it, that little sigh would have let him know.

She was definitely falling for him.

And as for him? Well, he'd been falling right before her very eyes for years now. They'd both just been too blinded to see it.

It seemed like he'd been right all along. The bad guy didn't get the girl. But the good guy sure did.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes: **First of all, thank you to everyone for all your kind words and patience after my surgery that has made this last chapter so late in coming. And trust me, it fought me every step of the way. I've never struggled with a chapter more in my life. Perhaps it was the anxiety about this being the final chapter in FBHE, which I have adored writing and received great pleasure in creating, and so I wanted to make sure it went out on a proper note. Which meant this chapter ended up being like a bajillion pages long in its first draft. Then it became awkward and choppy in its second form. The third and fourth attempts didn't turn out much better. Yes, this is the fifth version of the final chapter and I am admittedly not as happy as I could be with it. But it is already too long, and I was only able to get in as much as I could. And I had a goal to finish it today.

The goal was to really show how freakin' awkward Roxanne and Megs relationship must have started out as, with the whole Titan business behind them. I especially wanted to highlight that Roxanne probably wouldn't be instantly attracted to Megs after this whole deal. I mean, I even took some warming up to him as a character after watching the movie a few times! But at the same time, I wanted that mushy-lovey-dovey happy ending we all crave. And this is the product.

Thank you everyone for reading, reviewing and just being awesome. I'm both happy and sad that FBHE is complete... and I hope you've enjoyed reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing/fighting with it!

Note: I will be posting an epilogue project of sorts for this story over on the Megamind Community at LJ, so look for that in the next coming weeks!

**Disclaimer:** 'Megamind' and all its characters are owned by _Dreamworks. _I own nothing.

* * *

**Falling Before Her Eyes**

_Chapter 12_

* * *

"How are you?"

Megamind looked up sharply with shock at the sudden sound of the voice echoing out to him in the hollow, open space of the abandoned factory. The echo made him jump and look around wildly before he gave a sigh of recognition, chiding himself for so easily forgetting the presence of the other being.

He wasn't used to it, having someone else there. In his lair. He should have known she'd still be there. It was only logical. But somehow being back in the damp coldness of the industrial setting had made him forget. Then again, it had been quite a day, so perhaps it was natural for him to be addled brained.

After all, he'd defeated Titan, saved the city, was a somewhat free man, and by some miracle, had gotten the girl.

Sort of. He thought. Maybe.

Who was he kidding, he had no friggin' clue what was going to happen with Roxanne. Did he win the girl on principle alone? Or did he now have to fight another, more daunting battle, of struggling to wade through the murky swamp that is a relationship...?

He had no idea.

All he knew was that as the crowds had surged on him in congratulations after his victory, just a few short hours ago, his instant reaction had been to drop into a defensive pose and draw his weapon. He'd waved the De-Gun around menacingly, preparing to defend himself against the hoards as they swarmed, but then she'd suddenly appeared in his vision. And she hadn't left since.

Hand across his gun, pushing and trying to force him to lower it, she'd addressed the crowds with great humour, her voice high and anxious before fixing him with a steely gaze of warning.

_Put the gun down, _her glare had communicated, and he'd resisted, staring back at her with just as much meaning in his own gaze.

_They're going to eat me_ was what he hoped she got from his look, but something seemed to be lost in the translation because she just gave another jerk of her hand and roughly wrenched the weapon from his grip.

"They're moving in for the kill! Give me back my gun, or we'll both be lost!" he urged, scrambling and pawing for the contraption which she held at arm's length away from him, letting it dangle by the handle between two fingers like it was dirty.

"No," she insisted firmly, giving him a shove backward. "Megamind, they're not trying to kill you. They're trying to thank you."

"For what? Providing them with a nutritious and handsome MEAL? I won't go down without a fight!"

"Seriously? Are you joking?" she asked, and then glanced back at the fountain toward Minion, who was happily swimming in lazy circles in the water filled basin. "Is he joking?" she asked the fish, who shrugged his whole body, fins fluttering at either side of his plump face.

"Afraid not Miss Ritchi."

"Well, tell him to calm down."

"I don't need to be told to calm down like some child!"

"Evidently you do, since you're about to shoot innocent people who just want to thank you for saving them!"

"I believe she has a point, sir. The citizens are just grateful. You're a hero now!"

"Exactly! Hence, why I am not letting you have your gun back."

"Miss Ritchi! You cannot withhold my weaponry from me!" he cried out in aggravation and stamped one foot.

A voice suddenly called his name from behind him, and he wheeled around with an undignified screech of fear, staring into the pudgy face of the Mayor, several police officers behind him.

"MAYOR!" Megamind squealed before coughing into his fist and attempting to regain his composure. "I mean, Mayor. How pleasant to see you."

The short, rotund man gave an obliging nod and a queasy smile, his one arm in a cast and sling while a large bruise marred his forehead as if someone had hit him with a great deal of force right between the eyebrows. He used his other hand to carefully adjust his wrinkled tie, eyes darting off to the side and the nervous officials behind him.

Megamind slowly narrowed his eyes and he frowned, standing up a bit taller in the face of the group in front of him.

"Oh. Am I going back to jail now?" he asked softly, realization hitting him that despite having saved the city, he was still eye-ball deep in life sentences that might not be revoked because of one day of self-sacrifice.

Minion gave a watery gasp behind him from the fountain, and Megamind felt Roxanne step closer to his side.

"That's the thing," the Mayor stated awkwardly, clearly frightened and nervous. "You saved us all, and we're eternally grateful. But there's still... you know... 88 life sentences and all."

He made a feeble gesture with his hands as if to pantomime his helplessness in the situation and Megamind heaved a sigh in response.

"Yes, I understand. As I have now vowed to turn over a new leaf, I feel it only right that I continue to pay my debt to the city for years of negligent and dastardly behaviour."

"Wait," Roxanne said, placing a hand on his shoulder while she interjected into the conversation. "Maybe we can work out a deal."

She posited that based on the fact Megamind had been wrongfully imprisoned since infancy, versus being placed within the child protection system as any other human might have been, that his sentencing was wholly discriminatory. Although she didn't argue against the fact that he deserved quite a few of his life sentences for acts of terrorism, public panic, evading the police, escaping jail and overall destroying the city once a month, she suggested that instead of jail time, that he be offered a form of probation that involved him completing community service hours that better reflected his actual crimes. He would be put in charge of protecting and fixing the city, and would go through the regular routine that any offender, on probation, would need to do.

There was a significantly more involved conversation that went on between Roxanne and the local authorities on Megamind's behalf, but he didn't give it his full attention. He heard things about rights, and tribunals. Probation Officers, and court dates. Something was said about testing to determine human rights eligibility.

Really, it all sounded terribly difficult, boring, and rather tedious. Megamind didn't care for it. But Roxanne looked pretty hot the way she was gesturing, her face getting flushed with anger while she went into a particularly passionate speech about discrimination and something to do with unlawful confinement of a minor.

He stopped listening after it became obvious he didn't even need to be in the conversation. In fact, they spoke about him in the third person, like he wasn't standing right within earshot. And although he knew a thing or two about law, and the judicial system, he'd spent much of his life ignoring all of those laws and statutes and simply doing what he pleased.

While Roxanne still argued and got into a pretty heated shouting match with a cop who said something evidently unsavoury, Megamind took the time to check on Minion, examine the damage to the fish's robotic suit and calculate that he'd need to entirely rebuild the torso, filtration units, power source, and of course the glass dome. He'd sighed with frustration over it, but when Minion had muttered out a sad apology for ruining the suit, the ex-evil villain had simply scoffed.

"Oh Minion, it's no fault of your own, you fantastic fish. You saved Roxanne and pulled off your part of the plan perfectly! I couldn't be more proud. We'll fix it, all in good time little friend."

He'd hardly noticed the dewy eyed stare of joy and appreciation that Minion had given him until he heard the fish give a little sob.

"You're... proud of me, sir?" the blubbering ichthyoid almost whispered and Megamind gave a start, stared at his companion and then rolled his eyes. But Minion sniffed, his smile wide and toothy. "I'm proud of you too!"

The two stared at each other with lower lips quivering, eyes wide and watery before Megamind gave a series of odd, unintelligible noises, shaking his head quickly to dispel the sappy feelings that had settled over the pair.

"We have work to do, Minion! We must get back to the lair, repair your suit... and admittedly, I could use an aspirin."

"I'll come with you," Roxanne said as she had suddenly appeared behind him, and Megamind leapt to the side, his aggravation growing that people were constantly sneaking up on him. But with narrowed eyes, he agreed she could come along, and she handed over his gun once more so he could dehydrate both the broken suit as well as Minion for transport back to the lair. All the while Roxanne explained that she had at least convinced the authorities to allow him a cessation of his sentencing until a court date could be set, and they were turning a blind eye to him walking away for the rest of the day.

She continued to yammer on about this sort of topic as they cautiously walked through the crowds toward the invisible car, Megamind acutely aware of hundreds of eyes watching him while he moved.

He also became increasingly aware that he felt like he'd been crushed by a bus, thrown against some cars, shot at, punched, and then had fallen from the sky not a half hour previous to all of this.

He really did not feel good. It was all he could do to get them to the lair safely, after a very touch and go car ride where tiny blue and black fireflies seemed to dance and fall across his vision every time he blinked, and his whole body began to ache and burn in agony. He could practically feel the adrenaline fading from his veins to let the pain of a brutal and sleepless 24 hours hit him full force. By the time he parked the car, found the spare prototype body for Minion and replaced the fish in its tank, he could see black clambering in on the edges of his vision, and he wanted to vomit as waves of pain swept through every inch of his being.

What followed after was somewhat of a blur. He recalled Minion's concerned face, and then eventually a cessation in the pain at which point he'd finally focussed in on his surroundings enough to know that Minion was patting him gingerly on the back with a coaxing smile on his tan and green face. Some time had passed, but he didn't know how much.

"There we are sir! Slow and steady. You're all bandaged up, and some of the medication should make you feel right as rain in no time!"

"Code: I don't feel good," he grumbled drowsily and went to stretch his arms but blinked down at the sling that encased his left appendage, eyeing the way additional bandages were holding it into place against his side.

"Oh, that sir... You dislocated your shoulder earlier. And you have a couple fractured ribs," and he motioned to a pair of Brain Bots, who were currently fighting against one another while holding up a glossy black x-ray of his abdomen. They tugged and pulled, bowging at each other angrily, until the laminate sheet tore in two and they jerked in shock. Quickly, they hid their corresponding sides of the x-ray behind their backs with their long pincers, optic eyes glancing around casually.

He took stock of the rest of his injuries and glanced down at the melody of bandages, gauze, and butterfly stitches that stood white and red against pale blue flesh, or at least what flesh he could see beneath the light fabric of his normal black under suit, which was the softer jersey like material he wore beneath all of his regular costumes. It flexed and moved easily without being constricting on the wounds he felt all over his body from the burn of laser vision, the scrape of concrete on skin, and the bite of super-human powered fists.

It was a wonder he didn't have more broken bones, or internal bleeding, after the beating he had sustained. Someone up there must like him, as the saying went.

Cautiously, he stood up on legs that weren't quite steady, but managed to find his balance and sigh. His head didn't throb as much, no doubt thanks to the small needle pricks he felt on his arm where some sort of pain killer had been injected. But he could still feel the swelling of his right eye, that made it difficult to see, and the split lip caused the taste of blood to hit his tongue.

"Minion... where is Roxanne?" he asked after a moment's thought when he was able to take a few tentative steps, turning to look at the fish who blinked, glanced around himself once, and then shrugged helplessly.

They stared at each other silently with realization growing between the two.

What then occurred was a mad scramble to get on proper pants, foot wear and a belt, and then they began to search the lair nervously, Brain Bots bowging anxiously and flying in mad circles.

Roxanne Ritchi, alone and unsupervised, poking around in his lair. Déjà vu settled in. That, and panic.

So when he came up the grated elevator pad into the upper parts of the lair, he nearly had a heart attack when she spoke out from the darkness.

She was stepping into the building from the outside through the parted opening of the fake observatory. The light streamed in through the opened bay door of the lair's domed top, and she stood off to the side in perfect silhouette, one hand braced on the edge of the metal and wood construction.

He blinked at the stark contrast of her shadowed outline against a brilliant backdrop of red, orange and bronze from the sunset, making her curves all the more pronounced. His gaze, guiltily, travelled up in a luxurious line from her thin ankles, to her shapely legs that flared into those impressively rounded hips. Up and up to the tight hour glass shape of her impossibly small waist, and then that convex curve of her chest that begged the eye to linger before continuing on to a slender neck, feathered with that wild, uncombed, choppy hair.

He had no breath left in his lungs.

She took a few small steps into the circular room, so she finally moved into the light shed by the single light at the center of the room.

The kidnapping chair was still there with ropes attached, tipped lazily to the side, off center from the apex of the room while he stood his ground at the elevator, and she stopped midway. The chair stood ominously between them.

"How are you?" she repeated again.

He didn't move. His urge to race forward and wrap her in an embrace was warring with his feelings of terror in the light of what power she still held over him.

"Fine!" he squeaked. She raised an eyebrow and let her gaze roam pointedly over him. "Ah, I mean, better? Yes. Better. Scrapes and bruises. You know. The usual."

"That's good, I guess. And Minion?"

"Minion? Oh he's fine. His suit will be fixed in no time, and he's got the spare for now. So. Yea. Everyone's fine. I mean, are you fine?"

"Yes, I'm fine."

"GOOD! Good. Great. Everyone's fine. Honky-dorey even. Everything and everyone is fine."

"Are you nervous?" she asked softly, tilting her head to the side and taking another step closer, the light sending shadows through her hair. He swallowed noisily, suddenly itching to both vault over the railing to kiss her, and to slam his hand on the button that would lower the elevator back down and away from her.

"Nervous? NOPE. Well... Ok, yes. I am," he muttered, letting the bravado seep out of his body while he slumped, avoiding her gaze while glancing off to the side. When he dared to flick his eyes back her way, she was smiling again, that amused little gleam in her eyes with a hint of pity making her lips curl deviously at each end.

"I'm glad I amuse you," he retorted sharply and this garnered a little laugh from her.

"Look, it's ok," she soothed and motioned for him to move forward. He thought on this for some time, but eventually released his death grip on the lift's railing and walked forward, his boots clanging on first the metal grating, and then sending dull thuds through the chamber on the floor of the observatory site. The familiar monitors, computers, dials and buttons flashed and beeped around them in a soft melody while they eventually stood face to face in the very room where their adventure had begun.

"I don't really agree with that assessment, Miss Ritchi. I'd say it feels significantly more awkward than I had hoped it would," he countered, wrinkling his nose in distaste at the way he suddenly felt out of place. He especially didn't like the way his heart skipped a beat every time she moved, or how he began to madly calculate her every gesture, or expression for evidence of her rejection. His mind couldn't seem to decide whether he loved or feared her.

"Given the circumstances, I'd say it's appropriately awkward." The circumstances being that the crisis was over, there was no more Titan, and they were left standing in the aftermath with a dirty past laying in front of them in the bright light. And now they had to try and figure out whether to put the effort into cleaning off the stains, or simply throw the whole thing out.

"Thank you, for helping back there," he offered thoughtfully after the silence stretched on. She smiled back softly.

"Thank you for saving me. And the city. That was an amazing plan."

"You think so? Yes! Yes it was, wasn't it! Despite some... terrible... disastrous... nearly fatal set backs... It was one of my best plans!"

She made a motion with her head toward the opened bay doors, already turning to head that way herself, and he followed.

"Except for the whole 'Metrocity' slip up," she retorted over her shoulder with a good natured smile. They exited out of the observatory built as a diversion on top of the old factory building, the sun brilliant as it touched on the water of the bay before steadily slipping down as the sunset sped swiftly by. Roxanne climbed up onto the scaffolding at their side, offering him a hand once she stood atop the wooden board and metal made support.

"Please, don't remind me," he grumbled, refusing her help while using his good arm to pull himself up with a grunt, wincing only slightly when she wasn't looking.

"I didn't know if you'd come," she said softly once she laid her arms across the bar that stood at stomach height, bending down to rest against it while watching the sun sink down below the city line.

"After I saw you on TV, nothing could stop me," he replied in a quiet voice, truthfully, ignoring the vivid sunset stained with the smoke of the city's destruction so he could stare at her profile. She turned her head quickly at his statement, blue eyes widening while her hair turned golden and auburn in the fading light. Wind from the lake swept up and played with the strands, carrying the smoky scent of the fires that still raged in some parts of Metro City.

"You saw that broadcast? I wasn't sure if you'd seen it, or if you came on your own."

"I'd like to hope I would have found the courage to break out of jail again to go and save you... But I'm not sure I would have done it in time, if I hadn't seen you like that," he admitted sadly, gripping the edge of the scaffolding with his right hand, setting his jaw tightly while he watched the city burn, a hazy cloud marring the skyline above it. Emergency services were still trying to control the damage that Titan had done to the city's core, and sirens could be faintly heard on the breeze.

"So what now?" she asked, standing up straighter.

He had no idea. And that made his stomach clench uncomfortably.

There were so many unknowns in his future at the present time, and he felt pulled in so many directions, that he didn't know where to go next. He supposed if he sat down and went through his idea wall, and made some calculations, projections, sketches, things like that... he might be able to chart a course for himself and his companion fish. But at the present time, he couldn't muster up the strength to even think about lifting a pencil and setting it to a post-it note.

He wouldn't even know the first letter to write.

What did he do now that he was a hero? How does one switch their entire life's purpose in one day?

He'd spent a life time being evil, finding his purpose through fighting with Metro Man, trying to take over the city. He'd devoted his entire being, since the rough age of seven to this cause and now, he just had to give it up, switching tracks and becoming good.

It seemed like an impossibly daunting task.

And even more daunting than simply stopping his evil deeds, was how did he begin to address his personal identity? If he thought being Bernard, Megamind and Space Dad all at once was a difficult time in his life, he was dumbstruck at trying to just be one person now. And that person being one who was an entire stranger to him.

A hero? How did a hero even act?

He knew how Metro Man acted, and that was pretty much the only basis for comparison he had. But somehow, the image didn't gel when he tried to super impose his face against the gleaming smile of Metro Man.

But, well... it was a start. And it was the only start he had. He couldn't be him and be a hero; that was plain to see. His identity embodied evil. Nothing he did was heroic, so Megamind would just have to go. And if acting like Metro Man was how one became a hero, then he'd simply have to do it and pray that things fell into place after that.

Just the same as he'd be praying that things worked out between him and Roxanne. Now that was a dilemma that he was even more perplexed by than his identity as a hero.

And here she was, standing beside him, head tilted curiously to look at him on an angle, her expression a little pitying.

She still made his head light, and his heart pitter-patter in his chest. He still wanted to reach over and pull her close, to bury his face into her hair and just inhale her scent heartily. He wanted to whisper, speak and scream her name for everyone to hear. He wanted her, period, end of statement, paragraph complete.

But he had no idea how to turn those fantasies into reality.

Did he just reach over and hold her hand? Did he kiss her? Did he ask her outright on a date? Did he ask her where she saw their relationship going? Did he dare to ask if she found him attractive?

That was the crux of the problem, wasn't it? His body.

Now he wasn't some pubescent female, staring in the mirror and counting calories. He had no real self-hatred for his form. He accepted his own frame long ago, and appreciated it for its unique qualities that were apparently lacking in humans. He had energy, strength, speed, dexterity and much more. And his brain? Well, it was just fantastic.

But no matter how much he liked his body, he wasn't human, and that was essentially the one thing that could truly keep himself and Roxanne apart.

"Megamind?" she asked softly at his side, bringing him back to their current conversation and he heaved a sigh that let practically all the air out of his body. He ran his hand over his brow and back across his high scalp, before fixing her with a look.

He knew she could fall for his personality. He'd been a different person as Bernard, or so it seemed, but perhaps he was simply the self he would have been were it not for blue skin and a giant head. He was the unfiltered, free version of himself.

As Bernard, he was able to act the way he'd always wanted to, but never had the privilege to. So that meant that the Bernard she fell for was still a possibility. She'd fallen for his clumsy, mumbling persona, for his quick wit and intelligence, and for the 'intellectual dweeb' image.

He still was capable of being all of those things. His was still a genius, and if he was able to come off as fumbling and sweet without knowing it before, he could probably blunder his way back there again.

The problem was the physical aspect. Bernard had been a chance encounter, and although the thin museum curator was a fairly good physical approximation for Megamind, he wasn't blue. He wasn't giant headed. He wasn't amazingly thin. He wasn't Megamind.

And although a women could claim that she loved a man for his personality, sense of humour, or intelligence, she still had to look at him every morning across the breakfast table. And if what she saw disgusted her, she wasn't likely to stick around after coffee.

She'd said once that judging a book by its cover wasn't her style. However, those words were spoken while sitting across the table from a bespectacled, normal looking human.

How would the statement apply against a blue alien?

"I guess I don't know what happens now," he began, responding to her question regarding the future. "I'm out of my element when it comes to social interactions," he spoke, softly, raising his eyes to watch her closely.

"Not exactly my forte either. We are kind of starting off on a bad foot. Why don't we start from the beginning," she offered and then she turned to stand directly in front of him so he stood straight lest she step on his outstretched legs. He raised one eyebrow while she stuck out her right hand.

"Hi. I'm Roxanne Ritchi."

"…Seriously?" he asked, staring at her offered hand with barely contained disdain.

"Just play along," she insisted, waggling her fingers at him insistently while he heaved a martyred sigh, frowning expressively. She made a jabbing motion with her hand again before raising both her brows purposefully.

"Fine," he groaned while tipping his head back in exasperation. He stuck his good hand out as well, lamely.

"Hello. My name is Megamind."

She hesitated as she grasped his hand and pumped it up and down.

"Is that the only name you go by?" she asked while she paused, and once he was sure she'd gotten her fill of the queer hand-shaking interaction, he pried his hand free while replying righteously, chin turned up. The skin to skin contact made his flesh crawl, as it only highlighted his lack of gloves.

"I've been known to respond to Sir, Your Evilness, Prisoner, You There, and Oh No, It's Him."

"No, I mean like a name I can call you," she said, waving her hand to wipe away his sarcasm, wrinkling her petite nose cutely. "Megamind is kind of a mouth full. And I'm not calling you Sir."

"Um… I've never really needed a… short form," he muttered back in a reply, awkwardly, the fact that she wanted to have a different special name to call him by suddenly making heat rise on his neck and cheeks.

"Can I call you… Mega?" she asked curiously and he almost jerked back with offense, before fixing a dark glare on her, which she just smiled in the face of.

"No," he said firmly, pointing a finger at her in warning.

"I don't want to call you Mind…"

"Ew, no thanks," he cringed, sticking his tongue out in disgust.

"Meg?"

"That is a woman's name!" he cried.

"Ok, ok… I get it," Roxanne shook her head, eyes closed, and hands up in surrender before she began to pace back and forth. One hand on her hip, she used the other to tap a finger against her lip. He watched her stalk back and forth across the scaffolding shelf, talking as she went.

"Meg is a bit feminine. What about Megs?" she asked, stopping to look up at him which made him blink, as he'd been busy focussing on her finger playing against her pouty lips. He shook his head.

"…You added an 's' to the end of it, and suddenly it's masculine?"

"Look, I'm trying. How about just M?"

"M? I suppose that's alright," he mused, tilting his head to the side while thinking the term over in his head. It didn't make him cringe. It was short. Suitable.

"Oh can I call you M&M? Like the candy?" she suddenly gushed, eyes wide and excited.

No longer suitable.

"No. Definitely not," he insisted, attempting to fix her with an evil glare that would prevent her from ever repeating the phrase again. It didn't seem to work because she just reached over and punched him gently in his right arm, her smile playful.

"I'm just poking fun."

He intensified the snarling stare all the more, and she threw her hands up in the air in defeat and heaved out a sigh, her shoulders slumping.

"Look, I was just trying to give us a fresh start," she snorted, suddenly angry and wrapping her arms around herself, looking back to the waters as the sky continued to darken, the setting sun taking the warmth with it.

"I know," Megamind muttered back darkly, focussing on staring at the metal and wood facade of the fake observatory in front of him, refusing to watch her with the wind playing with her hair, her face wrinkled with a frown and frustration radiating from her being.

"This is weird Roxanne," he went on, shaking his head and trying to speak candidly through the complicated waves of feelings and information swirling through him. The fight bled out of him.

"I don't know how to act. As Bernard, I could pretend it wasn't me. I could… laugh with you. Look at you. Touch you. And I could just pretend we didn't have this black cloud hanging over us. But now? I honestly don't know."

She paused for a moment, thoughtful as she came to stand beside him, leaning as he was, close so their shoulders brushed and he had the urge to move away but resisted, feeling her warmth through the thin fabric of his sleeves.

"It's funny… You're not Bernard, but you're not Megamind anymore either," she began, her voice barely over a whisper, carried away by the cold wind that picked up around them at their height.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he snapped irritably.

"It means things have changed… You made some bad choices, and most of them I can't even begin to understand. And I dislike you for a lot of them. You hurt people. You destroyed the city for your own pleasure. And you lied to me," she said, turning her head to lock gazes with him at her last sentence, and he struggled not to look away from the honest hurt and anger in her vibrant blue eyes, her hair high against her forehead and framing her perfect skin.

"But, I also got to see this other side of you that's good, caring and willing to give everything up to save others," she went on with a little smile claiming her glossy lips, her head tilting to the side in amusement. Then she set her hand against his forearm, gently, cautiously, and he looked down at where she made contact, then back at her while she spoke with earnest to him.

"You can't forget your past, because it's shaped who you are, but there's always the future to look forward to. Now, it's about moving forward and creating a new identity. Somewhere between Megamind and Bernard."

"So… an evil museum curator?" he offered helpfully, and she gave a short, snorting laugh in shock before trying to tramp down on her growing smile, working hard to look serious in the face of his comment.

"No. Use your smarts for good," she chuckled after succumbing to her amusement, reaching up to tap his temple gently with one manicured finger.

"A novel idea Miss Ritchi. It doesn't solve this," he added, gesturing with his free hand to the space in between them both, referring to their relationship. His existential crisis was one thing he would need to address with time, finding out who he was after a life time of following his 'destiny'.

But his real concern? The thing he couldn't figure out by himself? Roxanne, where he fit in her life, and where she fit in his.

She avoided his eyes.

"What about us?" he pressed when she didn't respond.

The calm Roxanne dissolved into a frustrated woman, gesturing in anger toward him. She was pacing again, making the wood beneath their feet rattle on its base while her steps were animated and fast.

"What do you want me to say?" she snapped at him for his insistence. "That I forgive you? That we're dating now? That I love you and we're going to live happily ever after?"

His throat squeezed and his heart flip-flopped more than he'd like to admit.

"Look, Mega- … M," she corrected, using his new name while she took a steadying breath, regaining control once more, looking into his eyes. "I don't know what this is. I mean, just yesterday I thought I was dating Bernard."

"I figured as much," he replied, shrugging with one shoulder lamely, unable to stop the sorrow from making his head hang while he spoke in hushed words.

"I won't mince words Roxanne," he looked up at her, intensely. "I have feelings for you."

"Yea… I kind of picked up on that," she had the grace to offer him a sad smile, rubbing her arms gently against the chill of the air. The same chill that made him shiver, thinking about rain dripping down his neck, tears burning his eyes while watching her walk away from him.

"I can't expect you to reciprocate," he shook his head, pushing away from the railing to walk closer to her, as if to shield her from the wind, although he wasn't sure if being close to her would kill him. "But... do you... feel anything?"

"I feel… conflicted."

"Not the word I was looking for," Megamind grumbled.

"Ok, I feel hurt because of the whole Bernard thing. I don't pretend to understand your whole motivation behind it, because even if you liked me, it doesn't mean you can just pretend to be someone and steal their identity to live out some fantasy," she ranted bitterly.

"No, it doesn't."

"But, I really liked Bernard. I liked the person you were as Bernard. All fumbling and funny, and sweet… and so intelligent…" she went on, trailing off at the end while chancing a look up at him. She gave a lopsided smile, and he tried to smile back but it was wooden.

"How about… me? This me. The real me," he ventured, gesturing to himself while heat burned the tops of his ears, and his heart was already breaking before she even said anything. He anticipated the pain. He anticipated the rejection.

"You're… blue," she said after looking him up and down slowly.

"Yes, that has been established after many years of research."

She sighed, frowning at him.

"Well how do you expect me to react?" he blurted as his anger rose. "YES I'm blue. I know it, you know it, and everyone with fully functioning eyes knows it. That's all you have to say, is I'm blue?" he shouted at her, gesturing wildly with his free arm, so pain flashed across his midsection and he cringed, wrapping his limb around his middle to stave off the throbbing agony. She gave a gasp of concern, reaching forward, and he shot her an icy glare of pride that made her withdraw her hand back to her chest, lips turned into a pout.

"Ok, ok, I get it. Fine" she sighed, raking her hand back through her hair before breathing out to steady herself and then looking at him closely, evidently to give more thought to her analysis. But she gave a snort of frustration.

"I don't know! It's hard to get over the obvious stuff like…"

"My head?" he asked, gesturing with a swirling motion to his cranium.

"Yea…" she said softly, guiltily. And then she looked away and avoided his gaze.

"This is never going to work is it?" he said softly, sadly, realization setting in the longer she seemed to struggle. The way she had looked down had all but closed the book in his mind of what he could look forward to.

She would never see past the physical. His body, although healthy and more humanoid than most believed, was still repulsive. She had no attraction to him, and even if one could hope that love grew with time, he wasn't about the kid himself that a physical relationship was low on his priorities.

He was not looking forward to a loveless-love life where his partner grew sick from the idea of kissing him. Not when his urge to grab her and do just that until they both couldn't breathe was all consuming in its intensity.

"Give me a break. You're an alien," was her eloquent response, and he snarled his rage, fixing her with a dark, hateful glare purely due to his own crushing disappointment.

"Queen of Obvious Statements today, aren't we?"

"Shut up! Fine. Alright. Lemme try again," she insisted, hands up, eyes closed, as if preparing herself for the arduous task ahead.

"Please, we have all the time in the world," he snapped back, sarcasm dripping from his words as he stood with one arm spread wide, head at a sharp angle, awaiting her judgement with dark criticism.

Let her try all she wanted... he knew her answer. Knew he'd be found lacking at every turn. And with seething anger boiling up within him, he was happy to wallow in her comments to fuel his feelings of inadequacies. He couldn't stop himself from craving it more. Like a glutton for punishment, he wanted to hear every last comment about why she wasn't attracted to him. About how he disgusted her.

"Ok. You have the same build as Bernard," she was saying, and he frowned. It was neither a compliment, nor an insult.

"I'm surprised you could surmise that much, given the GIGANTIC distracting power of my bobble-like head," he muttered under his breath snarkily.

"Hey! Quit it alright? Do you want me to talk, or not?" she cried back at him, stamping one fuzzy-slippered foot a genuine look of hurt on her face, a flush of red shining across her cheeks. Her eyes looked wet.

Was she... getting upset?

He couldn't quite understand her emotions, but it cut his own anger off at the knees and he struggled to explain himself.

"Yes, I'll be quiet," was all he managed meekly.

Why was she getting upset like this?

"Well, aside from the skin… and the head, and being practically anorexic, you're pretty human like. Two hands, two feet. All ten fingers and toes I assume," she half asked, half stated, rubbing her arm against her nose with sniff before tilting her head at him, her eyes becoming a bit clearer.

"Present and accounted for," and he waggled his hand at her in answer. She crooked a little smile, and he felt the weight on his shoulders lift as she no longer seemed as emotionally distraught.

"Your face is pretty normal, if you ignore the forehead," she was still musing, but he started to lose concentration on her words because she bridged the distance between them and came close, forcing him to push back against the railing while trying to maintain his personal space. She was there, leaning forward, her eyes on the pale blue skin of his brow, one hand reaching out to draw a fiery line directly down the center of his skull, dipping over the wrinkles in his skin where his eyebrows were rising to their maximum height, eyes wide and half terrified.

"Mmhmm," he hummed, wetting his lips and swallowing noisily.

Then, that finger gave him a quick poke to his chin, ending in the barest of pinches with her thumb and forefinger, wrinkling her nose with a smile at him.

"I've always found it cute how you have this little goatee."

"Uh-huh." Cute. His goatee was cute. She was touching him. She was so damn close.

"And you have green eyes, just like Bernard. But they're a different green than normal green."

She was staring into his eyes intensely, and he felt his throat bob with another noisy gulp, and he blinked owlishly at her, his lips working for a moment without sound before his voice cracked out high and reedy.

"Y-yes. I… I can't change eye colour on my holograms… If I did… it would require… shooting high-intensity laser optics directly into the retina which can damage sight. So… I don't."

Smooth Megamind. Smooth like a brick to the face.

"Why are your eyes almost neon?" she asked, moving closer still so she was practically standing with her feet between his while he was leaned back against the railing, spine painfully bent to keep his torso away from hers.

"I have no idea. They just are," he squeaked, unable to break the eye contact they were sharing, his face, neck and ears burning with heat.

"They're nice. I always liked them on Bernard. Except his glasses were in the way."

"I like your hair," he suddenly blurted.

"What?" she blinked, leaning back slightly in some shock which gave him the ability to catch his breath while his hormone soaked brain caught up with his dumb mouth that liked to simply blather out the most idiotic statement it could. But, he had said it, so he needed to follow through or look like a true dunce in her eyes. So he cleared his throat, and tried again with a look of embarrassment.

"Your hair. I like it," he whispered, flicking his gaze up to her brown tresses which she touched self consciously, a faint little smile capturing her lips. She shyly dipped her head in such a helplessly alluring way that he lost his breath while she swept at her bangs the way he liked, and looked up at him with head tilted to the side.

"I… I like when you touch it," he mumbled out foolishly, practically purring while gazing at the beautiful woman standing near enough to wrap up in his arms. The lighting, the way her hair moved in the wind, the innocent brush of her fingers and her closeness made him smile dumbly and completely ignore the creepy sound of his own statement.

"Excuse me?" she asked flatly, one eye brow disappearing under her bangs it rose so high. He cursed under his breath and scrambled for an explanation.

"I'm sorry! That was idiotic and vaguely disturbing. I'm nervous."

"Nervous? Why?"

"Because!" he snapped more harshly than he had meant to, and he took a steadying breath and then tried again in a softer voice. "Because. I want to…" and he trailed off.

What did he want to do?

"I want to touch you. I want to pretend I'm Bernard again."

"Really?"

"Yes, of course! It was torture just trying to stop myself when I was Bernard! Now, the rules have entirely changed, and I don't... I don't know what to do."

"You could start with my hand?" she said thoughtfully and held up her left appendage invitingly.

"Your hand?" he asked, dumbstruck.

"Yea. We could hold hands I guess?"

"Really?" He brightened.

"Yep. I'll even let you squeeze it. That's like, second base in hand holding," she teased with a wink, wiggling her fingers at him tauntingly.

"Don't mock me," he chided, pointing a finger at her in warning.

"I'm not. I promise. Here." And then she reached for his bare hand and intertwined their fingers together for the first time, in such a flawlessly innocent fashion, it stole his heart right from his chest.

He stared down at the warmth of her skin against his, the way her fingers slid between the grooves of his own. He admired the look of his longer digits sitting flush against hers with their palms pressing into one another. Blue against pink. Male against female.

It was different from the brief hand shake. Somehow it felt like more.

"I've... never held your hand without gloves on. Or a hologram," he observed softly, looking up at her with a small grin. Sheepish. Shy. But pleased. She smiled back in kind.

"That's true. Am I taking your bare-hand holding virginity?" she asked, and she was true to her word by squeezing his palm gently, and he managed a squeeze in return, the feeling foreign and odd.

"Remember, no mocking!"

"Ok, ok. It's nice though, right?"

"Yes, it is. What now?" he asked, already eager for what the next movement up from hand holding would be. He really should have researched it a bit more.

"We just take it step by step I guess."

"So you want to…?" he pushed, his joy escalating as he realized that by saying they should take things slowly, she was at the same time saying that they were going to take things at any pace at all. Which meant she was agreeing, in some small way, to try. To be with him. To work on them being together.

Elation sang through his veins, joy swam in his heart. He wanted to dance and sing and twirl her around in his arms and kiss the day-lights out of her, and shout out to Metro City his excitement.

She grew quiet, looking at their hands together while mulling her thoughts over in her mind before speaking.

"… I haven't had much time to sort through what I'm thinking or feeling about you M. This was the first time I ever even really thought about what you looked like. I'm not promising anything. But today, you proved you can act in a way that I really respect and admire. That's definitely a step in the right direction."

"Well, I like steps in the right direction. And I like that you don't hate me."

"I don't hate you M. Let's just… not put labels on it, and maybe just see where it goes?"

"That's the best idea I've heard all day," he smiled again and then, hands still entwined, they turned to look across the bay toward the city once more.

They stood in companionable silence, simply watching the waves of the water in the bay pressing against the shore. They watched night steadily approaching, the city's light pollution keeping the scene bright as each building began to glow on its own. Wind swept up with the scent of smoke, fresh water and natural air, hitting them with a blast of cold chill that made Roxanne laugh a little, her hair suddenly flying in a tornado with the breeze. The strands fell back to rest across her brow, criss-crossing and dishevelled and she looked up at them in exasperation.

The auburn strands, changing colour yet again with the lighting around them, seemed darker now, highlighted with gold and hazel. The spiky tapered ends were ruffled, flipping out at the back of her head from the wild day. It wasn't styled. It wasn't perfect. It was a mess of short strands that never tangled because of their length, choppy and wild and gorgeous in their natural beauty.

Without thinking, he released her hand to reach up with his own, gently brushing her bangs back across her forehead and smoothing them down into place, taking the last, longer chunk within his grasp and finishing the motion by slipping it behind her ear lovingly. Just like he'd seen her do. Just like he'd obsessed over her doing. Just like he'd fantasized about doing himself.

He smiled dreamily at her, until he saw the way her big eyes grew wider, and she seemed to be holding her breath.

Then he looked at his hand, resting beneath the shell of her ear, buried in her hair.

He pulled it back quickly, stammering.

Oh God. He'd just reached out and touched her like that, after all their talk about going slow. Step by step. What step was hair-touching? For him, it seemed somewhere between full on nudity, and under the clothes groping. He'd skipped like four bases. How many bases were there anyway?

"M. It's ok."

"…It is?" he blinked at her, watching as a small smile came to her lips, the tops of her cheek growing pink in hue, prettily.

"I don't mind," she shrugged, and tucked the same hair behind her ear again, as if by habit, laughing softly at herself.

"Really? Because I've always…"

His heart was pounding now, as he realized she was almost inviting him to touch her hair. And that first touch had been intoxicating. He wanted more of it. And he wanted to be mentally present when he did it.

"Always what?" she tilted her head at him curiously.

"Wanted to do this…" he half whispered while moving even closer to her, timid at first as he raised his hand, hesitating, before plunged forward and slowly touching her bangs once again, feeling each strand of silky hair move against his bare finger tips. He moved his hand back across her temple, sliding fingers into the thick of her hair at the side of her head so it swam against his palm, riding in the valleys between his digits. Her eyes grew half lidded, and she made a soft little noise in the back of her throat that set all of his senses on fire.

He wished he had the use of both of his hands, so he could have experienced double the joy that was being able to finally touch that irresistible, tempting, taunting haircut. But he settled for the one, mussing her hair in his hand, running his fingers through it again and again. Touching the side, rubbing his thumb against the almost too soft material, before moving his hand to the nape of her neck to feel how it tapered and thinned.

It was silk, it was water, it was Egyptian cotton, it was air, it was velvet, it was everything that ever felt good in the world built into one orgy of tactile bliss. He was sure he could spend hours, days, years petting her hair and would continue to feel the same zing of excitement and thrill in his gut as he did this first time.

Her eyes were almost entirely shut now, and he had the brief epiphany that she was enjoying this too.

He experimented a little, pressing his fingers into her scalp in the barest little massage.

Her lips parted, and his breathe caught in his throat staring at her.

He pet and stroked and tugged and massaged at her hair while watching her reactions in fascination until he was able to note that her head was tilted back, eyes fully closed with thick lashed dusting her cheeks. Her lips were parted, and she was breathing in a way that he couldn't ignore.

And they were close. Practically chest to chest if he moved forward one and three-quarter inches. Her throat was exposed, so the scent of whatever perfume she'd had on during the day was just barely evident in the air, propelled by her chest rising and falling a bit quicker than normal.

His eyes darted to her lips, and that perfect little gap between them, inviting and taunting him.

He was touching her hair.

They were so close.

Her lips were right there.

He couldn't help himself.

Hand still buried deep in her glorious hair, he smoothed it slowly to the back of her hand, cradling it before pulling her ever so slightly forward just as he bridged that near two inch gap between them so their bodies met. He brought his lips against hers to the sound of her breathing in sharply.

He squeezed his eyes closed to block out the view of her rejection, his fingers tightening on impulse into her hair while their mouths connected. He waited. And waited. Frozen with his lips against hers, waiting for either a hand to slap his face, or the pressure of her pushing out of his grasp.

But the only pressure he felt was her lips pushing suddenly back into his.

His eyes flashed open in shock, staring at the woman who was kissing him back, her eyes still closed, a hand reaching up to cup the side of his jaw and rub a thumb lazily against his cheek.

He melted and finally relaxed his mouth into a more inviting embrace, following her lead and the way her lips moved against his, his hand finding the small of her back when she pressed into him. The little sound of pleasure she made had him going cross eyed with delight and he entirely ignored the pain of his arm sandwiched between them in a sling, and the pressure it put on his injured ribs.

Then, she slowly pulled back, eyes fluttering open to stare at him in wonder.

"Well, you were significantly more smooth than I thought you'd be," she whispered, her eyes searching his while bright pink stained across her nose. Her lips looked plump and wet, and he smiled slowly in triumph.

"I'm never clumsy when it comes to things I want," he purred and her blush grew darker, her eyes darting around unsurely while she smoothed out her hair from his hand's activities.

"You are a complex guy," she managed, clearly a little flustered, but a smile kept creeping onto her face every time she tried to straighten it into something serious.

"A complex guy you might consider... going to a cafe with later this week?" he ventured, suddenly feeling bold, manly, and quite studly if he said so himself. Evidently, he had some effect on her, if she could throw all of her 'step-by-step' talk out the window when he kissed her. She definitely seemed to enjoy it. And the way she was glancing at him, then smiling and looking away?

Perhaps Roxanne Ritchi was seeing a new side of him that she could add to her list of things she liked right alongside a cute goatee and neon green eyes.

"A cafe? Megamind, are you asking me on a date?" she asked, tilting her head with that irrepressible smile on her lips.

"Consider it a do-over," he explained, reaching forward with his hand to touch hers again, finding that he rather enjoyed this hand-holding activity. And she didn't resist in the least.

"A fresh start," she agreed, catching onto his implication with an even larger smile. A do-over of their relationship. This time, without the lies. Without the disguises. Just them.

"Trattoria's?" Roxanne went on, to clarify, speaking about the first time they had met while he was still under the pretence of being Bernard, and he nodded with a grin.

"And then maybe a trip to the library, if we like each other enough for a second date," he said off-handedly, shrugging as if he wasn't sure there was a guarantee he would want another date with her. She punched him in the good shoulder chidingly.

"Bike riding in the park could be a nice third date," she said, squeezing his hand while giving him a tug toward the end of the scaffolding, bending down as she began to climb back to the fake-observatory floor.

"Is that the date you're allowed to ask me up to your apartment for a proverbial cup of coffee?" he asked hopefully with big eyes, climbing down as well after they broke contact, grunting only a bit as he stumbled on the landing. But she came to his side, steadying him with one hand on his chest, the other on his back, her body pressed into his side to hold him.

"No. I'm not that kind of girl."

"Ah, well then I'll take you to..." he went on, her presence against his body making him struggle to remember the next date they needed to re-visit.

"A gallery," she offered helpfully, moving away from his side just slightly while still helping him to walk back into the upper level of the warehouse. He didn't need to help, but didn't tell her as much when he liked the feel of her hand on his back, guiding him.

"Yes! A gallery. Then a picnic in the park."

"And if you're really persistent, you'll pull out all the stops and take me to a fancy restaurant," she chuckled, smiling at him wryly with a wink.

"Fancy restaurants always work in the movies," he smirked back, waggling his eyebrows in a way that made her shove him to the side with a joking scoff.

"And then, a romantic walk in the rain," she countered knowingly, her smirk devious in intent.

"Ohhh nice touch."

"Thank you."

"That sounds like a wonderful course of events Miss Ritchi," he laughed at last, stopping in front of the lift that would take them to the lower level again, and he held out his hand for her to hold once more, helping her onto the steel grated elevator floor.

"I think so too. A do-over. A fresh start, right?" she asked as they descended with a clatter and shake, down to the base of the lair, Minion looking up at them and their approach from his spot over his old suit, working with a set of wires in each mechanical hand.

"Right. Shall I pick you up for lunch... Wednesday?" Megamind asked her with an eyebrow raised, glancing briefly over at the fish who gave a delighted gasp and subsequent squeal at the news he overheard. He fixed the fish with a warning glare as he helped Roxanne off the gated lift, even while she was laughing.

"Sounds like a date," she smiled, wrinkling her nose with amusement at Minion, who had dropped his work and had both hands slapped across the globe of his tank to cover his mouth, the corners of a giant toothy grin peeking over the metal digits while he danced from foot to foot in glee.

"Yes it does," Megamind smiled, shaking his head ruefully. "It certainly does Miss Ritchi."


	13. Alternate Ending: Roxanne

**Notes: **Alright folks... So I know that FBHE is finished, but I had originally written the last chapter from Roxanne's POV as a sort of.. switch up. However, when I polled people over on the Megamind Comm, the resounding consensus was that I had started with Megs, and I should end with Megs. Everyone liked his point of view and wanted to finish the story off with him. So, I went back and changed the whole chapter to be his view. That being said... there were still a lot of people interested in reading Roxanne's Chapter. Either that, or they wanted the continuation of the FBHE storyline to be from her perspective entirely. I am undecided about that, as I feel the next story is best told from Megs (plus I just find him easier to write... Roxanne is complicated) so I figured I'd at least satisfy people by giving you Roxanne's old chapter.

Forgive me for how awful this chapter is... You can see why I like writing Megs better. All of the dialogue from the 'Scaffolding' scene is the exact same. And so are some of the paragraphs and descriptors. Remember: I took this chapter and just rewrote it from his perspective. Some of the actions remained the same because I liked how they were written. I changed the ending to this chapter as well when I re-wrote it, so you won't see the whole dialogue about them re-doing their dates. It felt.. too rushed when I did it from Roxanne's perspective. Megs, it just seemed to flow a little more smoothly post-kiss. But given how much indecision I had Rox go through during her side of the story, prancing off to go have some dates seemed pretty far fetched.

So, the TL;DR version of that rant: This is the last chapter I originally wrote for Roxanne. No longer applies. Story ended differently. Still wanted to share. It's huge because I never editted it down. Enjoy, sort of...

**Disclaimer:** 'Megamind' and all its characters are owned by _Dreamworks. _I own nothing.

* * *

**Falling Before Her Eyes**

ALTERNATE ENDING - ROXANNE'S POV:

If you asked Roxanne Ritchi at three years old what her life would be like when she grew up, she would have said it was going to be magical. Because she was going to grow up to be a Unicorn.

By four years old, the answer would have changed to at least be within the proper species. She'd be a princess, with lots of fancy dresses and a handsome prince. And she'd be able to communicate with animals through song. Unattainable, but still better than a mythical horse.

At ten years old, Roxanne had decided on being a doctor. She was going to heal the sick, and help the injured. A worthy goal, most definitely, and one that stuck longer than unicorn or princess. That is until her freshman year of high school when she stared at her first failing grade on a biology assignment.

She nixed that idea pretty quickly.

By University, she'd decided her future would be in Psychology. She would be Robin Williams in Good Will Hunting. She'd be Jeff Bridges in K-Pax. She could still help others, like a doctor. She'd just start with their brains.

That is, if her own didn't turn to mush first.

Psychology courses in University were torturous. She hated them in every way possible, and would lay her head on the desk in front of her, in a crowded room of nearly four hundred students, praying for the three hours to pass faster. Professors would drone on about Bowlby. Erikson. Freud.

OHHHH Freud, how she loathed the cigar smoking bastard. Go screw yourself Freud. Take your id, ego, and super ego and shove it where the sun don't shine.

She'd just begin to figure out what she wanted to do with her life, and then the idea would fade to a black empty hole, mocking her with its openness. She was still no closer to finding her purpose. How could she still not know what she wanted to do with her life? Who she wanted to be?

Then, by chance, she'd taken a part-time job helping to host a crummy, campus TV show about events happening at the University.

For her, it had started as just a way to pay for her expensive shoe habit without getting a 'real' job while taking classes. But when she'd been handed her first microphone, she stared at the thing in her hand as an epiphany bloomed to life within her. When a camera lit to life in front of her, and she was interviewing a model at the charity fashion show, or reporting on recent budget cuts for the student activity fund, or describing the renovations to the main Student Center Building, she felt whole.

It just clicked. It felt right. She was confident, spunky, a gleam in her eyes and a skip in her step. She was all powerful in front of that camera. She could do anything.

She was going to be a reporter. A news anchor. She was going to help people and right those wrongs by reporting on them, and investigating the real issues. She would change the world, one story at a time.

Walter Cronkite and Barbara Walters became like rock stars to her.

So, just to reiterate again: Unicorn. Princess. Doctor. Psychologist. Reporter.

Now, did you see anywhere in that little blurb that Roxanne Ritchi had wanted to be a hostage? Or a super hero's arm candy? How about being a pawn between two aliens in a pissing match for power over Metro City? Did you see anything being tied to a giant building?

No you most certainly did not. Bet it never even crossed your mind. It certainly had never crossed hers.

One day, Roxanne was happy in living her life as one of the top reporters for KMCP, Channel 8. The next, she was thrown into a world of laser beams, evil plots, super heroes, capes, and kidnappings.

And now? God, how did she even begin to explain the rollercoaster ride that had led to this moment?

The Cole's Notes version was this: Megamind, that giant blue headed bumbling evil villain that he was, had been kidnapping her for years. Always the same shtick. Knock her out, tie her up, witty banter back and forth and then call Metro Man to come and save her. They'd fight, Megamind would lose, and get taken to jail. Then Roxanne was free to go on her way.

But one day, it didn't happen like that. In fact, it went entirely wrong.

Megamind defeated Metro Man, took over the city, and then apparently got bored. So he created a new super hero to fill the void left by Metro Man's death. Roxanne tried to find a way to stop Megamind, and he ended up using a disguise and for some reason (which she still hadn't fully worked out), began to romance Roxanne. Until the day she dumped him because the disguise failed and she realized she was kissing a blue alien. Then the new super hero, who ended up being her camera man Hal Stewart, became evil when she turned him down as well. Megamind had to become good in order to defeat him, and Roxanne and Megamind teamed up to find out Metro Man was alive and not willing to help, and Megamind ran away because he was a cowardly asshole, so Roxanne tried to reason with Hal, or Titan as he was calling himself, and she ended up getting kidnapped AGAIN, and FINALLY Megamind grew a pair and came to rescue her...

All you should really get from the story were these key points; Metro Man was alive, but in hiding as he wanted to retire from being a super hero. Roxanne had an uncanny ability to attract the STRANGEST men in the world, and apparently being dumped by her was motivation enough to destroy an entire city. Megamind had reformed, and was no longer to be considered an evil super villain.

Although, on a side note, he was still an asshole for the whole 'Hey I'm dating you but I'm really in disguise' thing.

Oh, and one more thing.

Megamind had just defeated Titan, risking his own life to protect a city and one female reporter who had rejected him since the day he came into their world.

And now, injuries and all, he was attempting to drive back toward the lair in the invisible car, looking considerably worse for wear after his battle with Titan.

In actual fact, he looked horrible. His pale blue skin was even paler than normal, marred considerably by dirt, and blackened streaks of soot. Brilliant, painful burns cut across his skin at different intervals, turning swollen and blackened red where Titan's laser vision had caught him. Crimson tinged his lips, a small line of blood dripping from the corner of his mouth while a wicked gash was openly bleeding down the back of his sizeable cranium, the trail disappearing down the collar of his suit. His costume, all tight black material and spikes and boots, was shredded beyond recognition, the fabric torn apart or road-rashed into a fraying mess. His breathing was uneven and wheezing, and one eye was beginning to swell over with dark bruising.

Still, despite all this, Roxanne had needed to struggle to keep up with him as the new hero moved to the invisible car, now missing a door on the driver's side due to the battle. He'd sighed and slipped in, waiting for her to move around to the other side where she slid in the already opened door as well. Without much warning, he turned on the engine and they were off at a less than safe speed, weaving through the destroyed streets and around civilians.

Roxanne had no real clue what to say to Megamind once they were alone in that cabin.

It could be expected. Their relationship at present was a tumultuous one. In essence, any feelings they had for one another were based on a lie. They were all forged from dates she had shared with 'Bernard', and for her to transfer those emotions automatically over to Megamind? Well, it was easier said than done.

After discovering the ruse the night before, Roxanne had been heartbroken. She'd felt the world spinning crazily around her, the floor simply opening and swallowing her up in one bite. And she'd reacted as anyone would have; she ran.

She ran from the restaurant, feeling like her throat was closing as tears blurred her vision. Looking up to the night sky, she saw rain droplets falling to hit her skin, and a small sob had escaped her lips.

Just her luck. All in one night, she found out that her camera man Hal was actually a super hero, and he was terribly angry that she didn't love him and so he'd left her on the roof of Metro City Tower. She'd had to climb down, nearly pissing herself with fear from the height and wild wind whipping at her heels and dress, only to get to her date with Bernard late. Then, while sharing their first kiss which sent electricity and fire singing in her veins, she'd opened her eyes to stare at blue skin and a startling high forehead.

Bernard was Megamind. And she was kissing him.

And now? she'd thought. Now it was raining.

Did God hate her? Was she some evil tyrant in a past life? Was she paying for bad Karma from her past?

It didn't matter why it was happening, really. The point was that it had. And she just needed to escape.

But he'd followed her, begging her with Bernard's eyes and Bernard's voice, and Bernard's gestures to let him explain. She'd punched him in a blind fury, for daring to mock her like that by rubbing it in her face that everything she had loved in Bernard was actually his.

His laugh. His sweet sincerity. His eagerness. His emotional past and the wounded, sometimes frightened look he gave her, followed shortly by that glimmer of hopefulness. The affectionate way he stared at her. Adoring. Worshipping. Completely enamoured. Like she was the only person in the world.

And those green eyes...

Why hadn't she noticed how similar they were to Megamind's? Why hadn't she made the connection?

Because she never would have suspected it was him, lurking behind that hologram watch on his arm, disguising himself. And for what purpose?

She'd asked him that when he'd followed her still, trying to speak with her, imploring her to listen. She hadn't listened much during that time, but instead had doggedly attacked him with questions. But that last question had turned his expression into one of miserable surrender.

He'd been staring down, with rain slicking down his bald head and turning the dark brows and goatee on his face shiny with moisture. Then, he'd flicked those emerald eyes up to her, and slowly raised his head, lip trembling slightly. And she'd seen it all on his face, clear as day.

He loved her.

She'd denied it. Stepped back as if in fear, as if to ward away his feelings. She felt sick. She felt dirty. Her mouth, where he'd kissed her, was like ice.

He loved her.

Oh god, why did he love her? Why was he looking at her with those heartbroken eyes? Bernard's eyes.

She walked away from him that night, with a biting remark echoing in the empty street around them.

Did you really think I'd ever be with you?

"No," he'd answered, and the truthful crushing way he'd said it had made her turn back at the last second, to watch him turn and walk, head bowed, into the street.

He loved her.

She'd gone home that night and sat in her shower, clothes still on, bawling into her hands loudly. She cried for losing Bernard. For caring for him and then realising he never existed. She cried for the injustice that a kind, gentle, good soul like his had been snuffed out. Then she cried for the fact that all of those qualities were just an act by Megamind. She cried because there were people in this world as cruel as him that would do something like that.

Then she cried because she'd fallen for it. And she didn't know what that made her.

But in the invisible car, in the here and now, that time seemed like days away. Weeks even. And the silence was driving her insane, as they sat side by side in the racing vehicle, watching the world whiz by.

The emptiness of the quiet was suffocating.

So she replaced it with her voice. She babbled and chattered and kept talking to try and suffuse the rippling anxiety that began to fill her as the stress of the day settled in.

God had it only been yesterday that this all started?

She talked incessantly about the legal issues she had discussed with the Mayor before they had left the city center. She talked about restoring the city. The meeting they'd have the next day with city officials in order to discuss his future. All her questions about how they'd handle the whole Metro Man fiasco. Did they tell the world? Keep it secret? Did he know how hard it would be to spin this situation if the city still thought he had killed Metro Man? They really needed to talk to Wayne Scott. But would he even still be in the underground lair they had found?

A part of her wished he'd shut her up, because she wasn't sure she could do the job herself.

It was a nervous habit, to ramble such as this whenever her stomach flip-flopped with stress, and the adrenaline rush left her shaking with pent up energy. She imagined it was what he felt like constantly, given how he always seemed to be bouncing off the walls.

She half expected him to join her in her lengthy dialogue, but when she glanced his way, she realized the reason for his stony silence and that shut her up pretty quickly.

He was obviously succumbing to his injuries. Dark circles lined his eyes and he seemed to be struggling to keep them open. His grip on the steering wheel in front of him, which wasn't even a full wheel when she analysed it closer, was white knuckled and he was bent precariously forward so his large head almost hit the dashboard. He was bleeding head to toe, and small shivers kept running through him.

When she meekly said his name, he gave a half startled grunt, attempted to sit up, and then gave a gasp of pain, wincing all the while jerking the steering wheel so she practically fell into him across the mess of dials and levers between the two front seats. The car barely managed to avoid a fire hydrant, mounted the curb, then clattered back onto the road again once he regained control.

She said his name more loudly now, and he managed to look over at her with a grimace.

"Megamind... pull over," she commanded, fear skittering through her veins.

He attempted some words that didn't quite make it past his lips, but a little blood sure did. Thankfully, when she nervously peered out the front of the car, she saw the same old factory warehouse, fake observatory perched on top, which she knew was the lair coming on the horizon. They exited the city limits, turned sharply onto the road that led to the building and headed straight for it.

Megamind muttered a thankful sigh of relief in the form of a few expletives, pulled the car through the holographic wall (which made Roxanne scream thinking they were about to crash into solid brick), and then slammed the vehicle into park harder than anticipated by pulling the emergency brake. The thing squealed, shuddered, and the engine died out in protest when he fumbled to turn it off in some way, which evidently was the wrong way, but he still groaned his appreciation and tried to lean back in exhaustion.

However, the front seat seemed to lack any backing to it, so he simply collapsed into the back with a whimper of pain, his spine bent painfully.

"Oh God," she muttered in panic, scrambling to get out of the car and rush around to the door-less driver's side, reaching in and pulling him upright while he massive head hung back lazily. She got him to tip forward, dragged his lanky thin legs out of a seated position and swivelled him so he leaned out of the car. Then she grabbed his face and patted his angular cheeks incessantly until his eyes fluttered open.

"Wake up. Come on you crazy bastard, wake up!" she commanded and he gave another unintelligent grunt in reply, and then smiled at her, eyes half lidded and his grin lopsided.

"Hello Miss Ritchi," he cooed, as if he were drunk. "Lovely to see you. Did you know I was a hero?" he asked, brightening a little before his head tipped forward to land on her shoulder, his mouth slightly open, eyes closed. His body slumped and she struggled to support his weight.

She didn't have time to figure out why his body worked the way it did, or how he had managed to postpone this reaction until they were safely back at the lair. All she knew was that she needed to find a way to help him. And she sure as hell didn't have enough medical know-how to do anything, let alone any understanding of alien physiology. But there was someone who did.

"Megamind, you need to stay awake for me, ok?" she grunted again, shaking him until his eyes popped open, their normal brightness looking dim. She then pawed along his belt awkwardly, finding the pocket where two iridescent cubes were and pulled them out. "We need to get Minion back."

Shortly before leaving the fountain at the center of downtown, where the battle had taken place, Megamind had used his glowing blue gun to de-hydrate both Minion, his talking fish companion, as well as the broken suit that Minion normally would have lived in. Damaged beyond any repair that could be done on the spot, the mastermind had encapsulated the space-fish in the glowing cube of energy in order to transport him back to the lair without the water that the creature needed to survive.

Seeing the cube, Megamind went a bit cross eyed to stare at its glowing blue light, a lazy smile capturing his lips.

"Pretty," he purred and then made another swooning motion before falling against her.

Roxanne caught him, dragged a scrawny arm over her shoulder, and then stood, supporting him. He didn't make any comment about it, and leaned against her heavily, his large head pressed against hers.

Then, a familiar sound reached her ears.

_Bowg Bowg Bowg._

Just what she needed. To get torn apart by one of Megamind's artificially intelligent inventions for bringing home a very injured ex-villain, with no one to explain she wasn't the one who caused the damage.

The Brain-Bots appeared, a swarm of eight or nine at first, but then more came into view. They spotted the pair, stopped dead in their tracks, and then exchanged nervous looks among themselves if it could be called that.

Roxanne swallowed nervously.

The Brain-Bots were Megamind's most recognizable creation. Metallic, floating sentient robots with the personality of dogs, they followed him everywhere and did much of his work for him. They were made of a single Plasma Ball, like the ones used to teach children about static electricity, with a menacing sharp toothed jaw affixed, and long spindling pincer like arms beneath the glowing and sparking shell. One long stalk of flexible material led up to a glowing red optic eye that snaked around to take in its surroundings, and Roxanne currently had about a dozen of them focussed directly on her.

"Um... Your... Daddy, he's hurt. I need help. Minion is here," she offered cautiously, not entirely sure if they'd understand when she struggled to hold Megamind and offer the cubes forward. They had always been somewhat cautious around her. Interested, curious, but never out right destructive. More often then not, they turned on their master and bit him out of disobedience, but she wasn't sure how their computer-brains would handle the sight of Megamind's prone form draped over her, obviously in distress.

She nearly dropped both of her burdens when the robots bounded forward, their chorus of electronic noises sounding delighted, before they looked at the cubes curiously. They then grabbed the cubes and flew off, others reaching their pincers forward to grab Megamind off of her, hefting him up by his arms and carrying him toward a chair.

They all but ignored her while she stood in stunned silence, watching as the bots assisted their master, while the others tore a tarp off of an old, and dusty robotic machine that looked something like Minion's suit, but smaller.

The fur was gone, but blue and black paint covered the contraption, with matching lightning bolts covering a barrel like body frame. The top still held a domed tank that the Brain-Bots were busy unscrewing, and filling with water.

A spare body. Naturally, Megamind would have one of those laying around for this companion.

Plop, went one of the cubes as they dropped it gently into the water, and a bright flash of iridescent bubbles produced Minion's smiling face.

He blinked once, then twice, gave a sharp turn in his tank and a few deep 'breathes' of water before looking at Roxanne, then Megamind all the while gasping, his fins all a-flutter.

"Miss Ritchi? Sir! You don't look well at all!" he stated, and then the hands of the robot flexed and gripped. Its shoulders gave an experimental shimmy, and a spark of bright electricity zinged between two prongs that stood up along the back of the tank.

Megamind, eyes open for the moment, gave a half thankful smile before promptly tipping forward, and Minion's now thinner metal arms shot out to catch him from across the room, like a grappling hook. He bridged the gap between them with thundering steps.

"Code: I'm going to faint now," Megamind murmured sleepily and then did just that, going entirely limp with his head falling forward.

Roxanne gasped. Minion squeaked, and then they looked at each other unsurely. Then Minion seemed to gather himself and slip into a familiar role, assuring her that he had everything under control.

And she was left with empty hands, and nothing to do.

So she hovered, and worried and babbled on and on, pacing the floor and trying not to think about the fact that she was so anxious about a man she shouldn't have feelings for. That she was in the very place that once had been considered her nightmare, a place of fear and hostage situations. That she was transformed from the normal confident Roxanne Ritchi into a blubbering female at the bedside of her... of her what? Certainly not lover. Not boyfriend either. Friend even seemed odd.

God, why was everything so confusing and uncomfortable? She just wanted things to go back to the way they were. She wanted back the old black and white of their relationship, instead of this grey area.

And apparently she wasn't the only one, based on how Minion kept gently, but forcefully, trying to bat her hands away whenever she tried to offer her aid, or reach for a piece of gauze he might need.

He did not want her there. He was polite, but obviously uncomfortable, and kept glancing at her over his shoulder, eyes narrowed for the briefest of seconds, before the pleasant smile wiped away any evidence of his anxiety.

He didn't trust her there, in the lair, watching him work. Roxanne didn't blame him.

She turned away when he explained he needed to undress Megamind in order to ascertain the extent of his injuries. It was a subtle way of giving her a reason to excuse herself from the room and she took it.

Practically running like her life depended on it, Roxanne put distance between herself and the pair, feigning interest in some of the machines lining the floor, but Minion called over with a nervous voice that she shouldn't touch anything.

Rebuffed, she went to walk up and down a line of long metal tables with Bunsen burners and vials of different coloured liquids bubbling away, but when her fingers reached out to tap at one bulbous container, a Brain-Bot flew out of nowhere, claws extended and optic eye fiery red.

Retreating away again, she nervously wandered the vast warehouse, chills running up and down her spine, trying to find some place she felt comfortable. Somewhere. Anywhere. But every way she turned, a Brain-Bot was shooing her away, a siren went off, or signs and warnings flashed from every angle at her.

Maybe she should leave. Just forget this crazy idea of sticking around until Megamind was well again, and just get out. Her heart was pounding from things jumping out at her, and the potential dangers around every corner. Hadn't she walked through this lair weeks before with such confidence, not a note of fear? And now, all she wanted was to escape.

She spied a door with a large glowing 'Exit' sign over its frame and as she approached it with something like relief, she stopped with her fingers brushing the handle.

Was that... Disco music?

She recoiled in a panic, scrambling away from the dreaded door that held alligators and thumping BeeGee's beats, a soft gasp escaping her lips. Not again! She'd fallen once, inches from gnashing teeth and brilliant mirrored strobe lights. She was not interested in trying that again, especially with no Bernard to save her.

But no, that hadn't been Bernard. It had been Megamind. Pretending to fight with himself. Running to save her from falling to her death. Throwing a stick of dynamite to destroy his own creations behind them. Hugging her with a look of rapture and delight on his face.

She had called him her partner.

She took one step back from the door. Then another. Then she spun quickly, her pink slippers sliding on the floor beneath her while she scrambled to get away.

Running somewhat blindly back through a slim corridor among heaters and ducts, Roxanne tried to get a grip on herself, placing her hand against the side of a large machine for support when she stopped. It shuddered and almost began to tip over, so she pulled back from it with a jerk, stumbled back into another thing beneath a tarp that light up and made a terrible 'zap' noise. Giving a cry of shock, she recoiled yet again, turned quickly to flee and came face to face with the barrel of a machine-gun like weapon attached to a towering mechanical vehicle.

She screamed, but slapped a hand over her mouth to quiet the noise.

Was everything in this building dangerous and terrifying?

Dumb question. It was an evil lair.

Heart pounding in her chest, Roxanne decided then and there to find the real exit and leave. She had been wrong in inviting herself here. She had no place among all these inventions, Brain-Bots and talking fish. She had no place in Megamind's world.

She had to leave.

No matter how much the idea of leaving made her uneasy, especially when she didn't know if Megamind was alright.

And yet, that made her want to leave all the more, running from the emotional attachment that was growing.

Her feet were already pounding on the cement, running aimlessly toward where she thought they had entered the lair from. Down this corridor? Around that machine? Through those giant curtains? Why did this place seem so vast all of a sudden?

One of her damn slippers snapped on her foot and she stumbled, trying to jam her toes back into its pink embrace. But she had already lost her balance, and she fell forward with a gasp, extending her arms out for something to catch her fall.

Metal collided with her palms and she gripped it, praying it wouldn't be some sort of knife covered robot, because Megamind would definitely be the person to build something like that. But when no pain came, she dared to open her eyes and stare at the grated floor and hand rails of a lift elevator.

An elevator? She instinctively looked up to see where it might lead to.

A quiet kind of calm embraced her as she spotted the rectangular gap in the ceiling that lead up toward the next floor of the once-factory filled building. Up toward the roof, where a certain structure had been erected.

She found herself moving without thought, cautiously stepping aboard the metal lift with eyes always skyward.

Her fingers found the rounded top of the lever that operated the lift, and she sent a glance over her shoulder, and then hesitated.

She pushed the stick forward.

Up it clattered, lifting her up from the warehouse floor and into the part of the lair she knew. The part of the lair specifically made to showcase her.

The lights flickered to life as the lift came to a halt, and she breathed out a slow sigh.

Her chair sat alone in the center of the room, tipped to its side, ropes still hanging limp around its rungs. The Tesla coils flickered and crackled, the dials flashed and beeped, and the monitors shone with charts and bars and numbers.

It was a symphony of comfort, and a glow of calm. She felt her muscles relax, her mind clear and her heart beat slow with relief.

How sick was that? The very room she awoke in, bag pulled from her head, disgruntled from noxious gas sprayed in her face, was the one place she felt comfortable.

In a way, it made sense. Their whole relationship, between herself and Megamind, had been held here, or at least in places similar. Lairs. Factories. Like movie sets, ready for their back and forth banter. A stage where he could reveal her as his captive to the world, and to Metro Man. It was a place where they each had roles, and they stuck to them. They had scripts and characters. It was when they started ad libbing that it all turned pear-shaped. They'd deviated from the act.

She walked forward, under the bare bulb that hung ominously at the center of the room, and stared down at the chair and ropes at its center. Using the toe of her slipper, she nudged the coil of material that normally held her in place on the straight backed chair.

She could practically hear the water under the floor where his alligators were held.

Roxanne heaved a slow sigh, wrapping her arms around herself as she gazed around the cold room. The only warmth that seemed to radiate within this world of metal and electronics was the sun peering in through the opening of the fake observatory, sending a slanting plane of golden red across the floor to end at her feet.

Imagine living in a place like this. Cold, sterile, filled with machines and rust and dank air. She longed for her warm apartment, in hues of rich browns and reds. It always felt so safe there. Comforting. Like being wrapped in a blanket, cocooned on her sectional couch, staring out the floor to ceiling windows out over the cityscape.

She could see the same city line on the horizon, just from a different angle across the bay. Moving to stand in the opening of the observatory walls, she leaned against the wall and worried her lower lip under her teeth.

She and Megamind lived in the same Metro City, but they saw it from two impossibly different perspectives. The difference between their chosen dwellings was as big an indicator of that as the difference in their physiology. How could their two worlds ever collide and expect to somehow mesh together? It wasn't like she could run around and spruce up the ol' lair with some flowers, a few paintings, maybe some scented votive candles on the drafting table and a couple throw pillows on the work benches. There was no way she could even begin to feel comfortable in his world, and he'd feel even more like an alien in hers. Even having him once in her apartment, fluttering around like a hyper-active hummingbird while begging her to help him defeat Titan, he had been a foreign man in a foreign land of carpets and home decor.

Could she ever imagine him reclining on her sofa, relaxing and watching the evening news? Could she imagine herself, comfortably marching into the factory below and hanging out for an afternoon?

And why was she even entertaining the idea of trying to make something out of their relationship?

And when had she started thinking of them as HAVING a relationship?

She attempted to sort through the complex medley of thoughts in her head while she watched the sun sink down toward the horizon, the colours highlighted against a sky dark with clouds of smog and destruction left in the wake of Titan's attacks on the city.

No matter how long she tried to make her riotous thoughts take some form of logic, a burst of fresh emotion took over.

This was impossible, Logic would say, huffy and indignant. She needed to just leave.

But Emotion countered with concern. What if Megamind needed her? He'd just risked his life in protecting her and the whole city. The least she could do was to stay and make sure he was alright.

Why would he need her? Logic scoffed at the idea. She was nothing to him.

But she knew that wasn't true, Emotion reminded wisely. He'd basically admitted to being in love with her.

Well, that's all well and good, Logic fired back coldly, but she had no feelings for him whatsoever.

Then why are you still here? Emotion asked in a quiet voice, leaving Roxanne feeling chilled and worried.

Only when she heard the jittery clacking rumble of the elevator making its ways back up to rooftop did she turn around, so caught up in her own internal argument.

The man in question was there, bandaged, bruised, and looking equally as confused and terrified as she felt.

Megamind stood on the platform of the lift elevator, his free arm that wasn't wrapped in a sling and secured to his side gripping tightly on the railing while he peered around himself. The contrast of his bright blue fingers, flush against the metal was shocking at first and she tried to understand why.

He wasn't wearing gloves. No gloves, no spikes, no high collar and long cape. Just a softer grey material suit that left his collar bone and neck bare, hands uncovered. He still wore the tight fitting pants and the studded, flared boots. But other than that, he almost looked... normal. She'd never seen him so under dressed.

It made her voice catch in her throat when she finally spoke after sensing that he hadn't seen her, hidden as she was by the glare of the sun.

"How are you?" she asked, and he jumped nearly a foot, squeaking out in the way he normally did when shocked. She'd seen it so many times with Metro Man that it brought a sliver of a smile to her face. It seemed familiar. Like how they should be acting in this room, as villain and kidnap victim. But it wasn't Metro Man that had him on edge. It was her.

"How are you?" she repeated again when he didn't respond and instead seemed to be stuck between a fight or flight decision, one hand poised over the controls of the elevator while he chest expanded and contracted like a wounded bird's. She moved forward a bit to step into the light.

"Fine!" he squeaked. She raised an eyebrow and let her gaze roam pointedly over him. "Ah, I mean, better? Yes. Better. Scrapes and bruises. You know. The usual."

"That's good, I guess. And Minion?" she asked, not sure what else to talk about. He fidgeted in his spot, eyes darting around the room.

"Minion? Oh he's fine. His suit will be fixed in no time, and he's got the spare for now. So. Yea. Everyone's fine. I mean, are you fine?"He winced as he asked the question, belated, clearly uneasy.

"Yes, I'm fine."She managed a little smile at his bumbling. At least she wasn't the only one in a panic. It helped that he was worse off and seemed to have trouble controlling the volume and pitch of his words. It made her seem stoic and calm in comparison.

"GOOD!" he almost shouted, before lowering his volume again with a clearing of his throat. "Good. Great. Everyone's fine. Honky-dorey even. Everything and everyone is fine."

He was babbling.

"Are you nervous?" she asked softly, tilting her head to the side and taking another step closer, but moving slowly like he was an animal that might spook too easily and jump off again into the brush. She watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed noisily, pupils dilating as she approached.

"Nervous? NOPE," he began bravely, a high, giddy laugh escaping his throat. He coughed once, looked down, then glanced at her from the side. Then he seemed to deflate, slumping his shoulders with a frown. "Well... Ok, yes. I am."

She couldn't help but smile at the admission, at the crestfallen way he muttered it out the side of his mouth. He must have noticed her grin because his brow wrinkled with a frown.

"I'm glad I amuse you," he retorted sharply and this garnered a little laugh from her.

"Look, it's ok," she soothed and motioned for him to move forward. Reluctantly, he complied. But his expression turned deadpan.

"I don't really agree with that assessment, Miss Ritchi. I'd say it feels significantly more awkward than I had hoped it would," he countered, wrinkling his nose in distaste. Roxanne gave a slow nod in acknowledgement, but still smiled ruefully.

"Given the circumstances, I'd say it's appropriately awkward."

Silence reigned for a time while they stood together near the center of the room. A machine beeped softly in the background.

"Thank you, for helping back there," he stated in a mechanical sounding voice. He frowned around the words, as if he wasn't used to saying the words to anyone. She smiled, remembering the relief that had flooded her system once she saw the invisible car and had pointed it out for him during his battle.

Then she felt that weird feeling again, recalling the fear and concern she'd felt for the blue alien the entire time.

"Thank you for saving me," she said quickly, pushing the thoughts out of her head. "And the city. That was an amazing plan."

"You think so?" he lit up happily. "Yes! Yes it was, wasn't it! Despite some... terrible... disastrous... nearly fatal set backs... It was one of my best plans!" he trailed off, part way through, his good hand tapping a finger to his chin in thought before ending on a high note, beaming at her proudly. She couldn't help but smile back at him.

She made a motion with her head toward the opened bay doors, already turning to head that way herself, and he followed.

"Except for the whole 'Metrocity' slip up," she retorted over her shoulder with a good natured smile. They exited out of the observatory built as a diversion on top of the old factory building, the sun brilliant as it touched on the water of the bay before steadily slipping down as the sunset sped swiftly by. Roxanne climbed up onto the scaffolding at their side, offering him a hand once she stood atop the wooden board and metal made support.

"Please, don't remind me," he grumbled, refusing her help while using his good arm to pull himself up with a grunt. She pretended not to notice the pained way he moved, and how he seemed to need an extra moment to breath after the slight exertion. Titan had really done a number on him, and she struggled to reign in the renewed sense of concern that muscled Logic out of the way again.

"I didn't know if you'd come," she said softly, reflecting on the day's events as she struggled to remember how it had all taken place. She laid her arms across the bar that stood at stomach height, bending down to rest against it while watching the sun sink down below the city line.

"After I saw you on TV, nothing could stop me," he replied, his voice soft and meek. Roxanne turned to him with some shock, a zing of feeling stabbing in her heart at the muted, truthful way he spoke.

"You saw that broadcast?" she asked, although she knew the answer already. "I wasn't sure if you'd seen it, or if you came on your own," she admitted, not sure which answer she would have preferred. It occurred to her that he must have seen the broadcast, since he came at the specified time to the Metro Tower. But then again, Megamind was always good at having the dumb luck that one only saw in movies.

He cringed a little, and avoided her gaze, but still replied.

"I'd like to hope I would have found the courage to break out of jail again to go and save you... But I'm not sure I would have done it in time, if I hadn't seen you like that." His grip on the railing of the scaffolding tightened, and he set his jaw in a stern, almost angry way. She watched his face in profile, wondering not for the first time just what was swimming through that massive head of his. Eventually, she just stared down at the bay.

"So what now?"

He didn't respond for what felt like ages, but simply clenched his jaw even more, making his lips turn into a firm blue line of concentration. His eyebrows were drawn down, turning his face into a scowl. Clearing her throat, Roxanne tried to let the silence go on for a while, giving him space to think. Time to brood. But it became too much and she broke the silence with his name.

He darted green eyes in her direction, sighed, and then scrubbed his free uninjured hand across his face, clearly exasperated.

"Megamind?" she asked softly at his side, bringing him back to their current conversation and he heaved a sigh that let practically all the air out of his body. He ran his hand over his brow again and back across his high scalp, before fixing her with a look.

"I guess I don't know what happens now. I'm out of my element when it comes to social interactions," he spoke, softly, raising his eyes to watch her closely. This seemed like an entirely different being than the one she was used to. The theatrics were gone. The boastful, self-assured over confidence had dissipated into someone almost normal. Like Bernard.

"Not exactly my forte either. We are kind of starting off on a bad foot," she mused, uncomfortable with him not being himself, and being unsure how to assimilate this new entity into her ideas about him. Then a novel idea hit her.

"Why don't we start from the beginning," she offered and she turned to stand directly in front of him so he stood straight lest she step on his outstretched legs. He raised one eyebrow while she stuck out her right hand.

"Hi. I'm Roxanne Ritchi."

"…Seriously?" he asked, staring at her offered hand with barely contained disdain.

"Just play along," she insisted, waggling her fingers at him insistently while he heaved a martyred sigh, frowning expressively. She made a jabbing motion with her hand again before raising both her brows purposefully.

"Fine," he groaned while tipping his head back in exasperation. He stuck his good hand out as well, lamely.

"Hello. My name is Megamind."

She hesitated as she grasped his hand and pumped it up and down. She felt her fingers slide against his skin; perhaps the first time ever she had wittingly felt him. Years of wearing gloves left the hands smooth, and his fingers were longer than her own, and slim in their proportions. The blue hue of his skin faded to an almost translucent cerulean around the junction of his digits, and the knuckles were tainted purple with bruising and perhaps natural colouring as well.

"Is that the only name you go by?" she asked while she paused, and he tore his hand away, examining it and flexing his fingers as if she might have done lasting damage to the appendage.

"I've been known to respond to Sir, Your Evilness, Prisoner, You There, and Oh No, It's Him."

"No, I mean like a name I can call you," she said, waving her hand to wipe away his sarcasm, wrinkling her nose in exasperation. "Megamind is kind of a mouth full. And I'm not calling you Sir."

"Um… I've never really needed a… short form," he muttered back in a reply, awkwardly, giving her a look that said he was clearly unsure of her motivation for finding him a new name.

"Can I call you… Mega?"

"No."

"I don't want to call you Mind…"

"Ew, no thanks."

"Meg?"

"That is a woman's name!"

"Ok, ok… I get it," Roxanne shook her head, eyes closed, and hands up in surrender before she began to pace back and forth. One hand on her hip, she used the other to tap a finger against her lip.

"Meg is a bit feminine. What about Megs?" she asked, stopping to look up at him which made him blink. He shook his head.

"…You added an 's' to the end of it, and suddenly it's masculine?"

"Look, I'm trying. How about just M?"

"M? I suppose that's alright."

"Oh can I call you M&M? Like the candy?" she suddenly gushed, eyes wide and excited, feigning joy at new nickname, sure that it would set him off.

"No. Definitely not," he blubbered, as if he didn't know where she got the audacity to even suggest such a thing. Attempting to inject a bit of humour into the moment, she playfully jabbed at his good arm, the way she had when she'd first called him partner. Or called Bernard partner.

Her stomach did an odd flip-flop.

"I'm just poking fun," she muttered softly, more to herself than anyone, but his sudden dark glare told her he was not in the mood for gaiety. Sighing loudly, she threw her arms up in defeat, slumping her shoulders to frown back at him. He was not making this any easier by having an attitude.

"Look, I was just trying to give us a fresh start," she snorted, suddenly angry and wrapping her arms around herself, looking back to the waters as the sky continued to darken, the setting sun taking the warmth with it.

"I know," Megamind muttered back with a dark pout, focussing on staring at the metal and wood facade of the fake observatory in front of him.

"This is weird Roxanne," he went on, shaking his head and suddenly looking ten years older, the day weighing on him heavily. "I don't know how to act. As Bernard, I could pretend it wasn't me. I could… laugh with you. Look at you. Touch you. And I could just pretend we didn't have this black cloud hanging over us. But now? I honestly don't know."

There it was again. This entirely alien (no pun intended) personality. The Megamind she knew never spoke so clearly. Never treaded into the emotional ground of life. His voice no longer had that exaggerated accent to it, where every word was a practice in diction. Like an actor, hamming it up for the crowds. Now his words were flat, spoken as any casual bystander might.

She paused for a moment, thoughtful as she came to stand beside him, leaning as he was, close so their shoulders brushed.

"It's funny… You're not Bernard, but you're not Megamind anymore either," she began, her voice barely over a whisper, carried away by the cold wind that picked up around them at their height.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he snapped irritably. She tried not to cringe at his quick explosive outburst, at the way his shoulders straightened with pricked pride.

"It means things have changed… You made some bad choices, and most of them I can't even begin to understand. And I dislike you for a lot of them," Roxanne began softly, talking in order to sort out her feelings verbally. The words rolled out of her head and off her tongue while she stared down at her feet.

"You hurt people."

He looked away.

"You destroyed the city for your own pleasure."

He bit his lip.

"And you lied to me," she said, turning her head to lock gazes with him at her last sentence. She watched his throat bob as he swallowed, eyes riveted to hers.

"But, I also got to see this other side of you that's good, caring and willing to give everything up to save others," she went on with a little smile, tilting her to the side in amusement. Then she set her hand against his forearm, gently, cautiously, and he looked down at where she made contact, then back at her while she spoke with earnest to him.

"You can't forget your past, because it's shaped who you are, but there's always the future to look forward to. Now, it's about moving forward and creating a new identity. Somewhere between Megamind and Bernard."

"So… an evil museum curator?" he offered helpfully, and she gave a short, snorting laugh in shock before trying to tramp down on her growing smile, working hard to look serious in the face of his comment.

"No. Use your smarts for good," she chuckled after succumbing to her amusement, reaching up to tap his temple gently with one finger.

"A novel idea Miss Ritchi. It doesn't solve this," he added, gesturing with his free hand to the space in between them both. She sighed at the reminder and went back to staring out over the water.

"What about us?" he pressed when she didn't respond.

He was putting her on the spot, prodding her to make decisions. His mind must be more powerful than her own. It felt as if he was already done pondering over the day's events, and was moving forward to the next step. The next idea. The next plan.

Roxanne, however, was still stuck just trying to remember if she'd even brushed her teeth this morning.

Turning on her heel, she began to pace with agitation, hating that she had to answer this question he was asking her, because in reality, she didn't have an answer. And that only made that growing empty feeling in her chest seem all the larger.

It seemed like such an unfair question to ask of her, so soon after his deception had been dropped and things were finally out on the table. She'd barely gotten it through her head that Metro Man was still alive. How could she possibly address this sort of thing, given the circumstances?

And why was it her responsibility to decide their fate? Hadn't she been the one wronged? The one who was lied to? The one hurt, deceived, and put directly in the line of danger because of his actions? Hadn't it been her life that hung in the balance? She was the one on the top of Metro Tower. She was the one taking Titan's wrath from the start.

And Megamind wanted her to tell him what she saw happening between the two of them?

"What do you want me to say?" she snapped at him, anger fuelling her to stomp back and forth along the wood panelling that supported them. Her hands shook so she squeezed them into fists. "That I forgive you? That we're dating now? That I love you and we're going to live happily ever after?"

Her fury died out when she saw his wide eyes, and the flush of purple and pink highlighting his face. He shifted his wounded arm in its sling, and the Roxanne let the air from her lungs seep past her lips in a slow, sad sigh.

He'd put himself physically in jeopardy just hours before, in order to save her. Put himself between her and Titan on several occasions. Came when she called for him. What did that say about him? She owed him at least... something. She didn't know what. But she tried to explain.

"Look, Mega- … M," she corrected, using his new name as a way of differentiating between now and the past. She took a steadying breath, regaining control once more, looking into his eyes. "I don't know what this is. I mean, just yesterday I thought I was dating Bernard."

"I figured as much," he replied, shrugging with one shoulder lamely, his voice quiet and sad. "I won't mince words Roxanne," he looked up at her, intensely. "I have feelings for you."

He said it so firmly, without any hesitation, that she looked away, biting her lower lip.

"Yea… I kind of picked up on that," she forced a smile onto her face, but it felt wooden and almost sad.

"I can't expect you to reciprocate," he shook his head, pushing away from the railing to walk closer to her. "But... do you... feel anything?"

"I feel… conflicted," she offered lamely, cringing at his closeness. He looked away.

"Not the word I was looking for," Megamind grumbled.

"Ok, I feel hurt because of the whole Bernard thing. I don't pretend to understand your whole motivation behind it, because even if you liked me, it doesn't mean you can just pretend to be someone and steal their identity to live out some fantasy," she ranted bitterly.

"No, it doesn't," he admitted, and she was again shocked he admitted to his wrongs so easily. The old Megamind would have denied his responsibility until the bitter end. He really was somewhere between Megamind and Bernard. Some new person entirely. She was growing to miss the old Megamind with each moment. But she also missed Bernard.

Her head ached at the paradox and she struggled to speak again, to make him understand.

"But, I really liked Bernard," she went on, trying to make connections to when she had been somewhat happy around him. Whether or not she knew it was him.

"I liked the person you were as Bernard. All fumbling and funny, and sweet… and so intelligent…" she went on, trailing off at the end while chancing a look up at him. She gave a lopsided smile, and he smiled back, weakly.

"How about… me? This me. The real me," he ventured, gesturing to himself.

And there was the crux of the problem. He wasn't Bernard now. And he never would be again. Even if he wore a disguise for the rest of their life together (IF there even would or could be a life they shared), she would know what was under the holographic projection. And the idea of walking around in the open with him, as he was now?

"You're… blue," she said after looking him up and down slowly.

"Yes, that has been established after many years of research."

She sighed, frowning at him.

"Well how do you expect me to react?" he blurted as his anger rose. "YES I'm blue. I know it, you know it, and everyone with fully functioning eyes knows it. That's all you have to say, is I'm blue?" he shouted at her, gesturing wildly with his free arm, and he cringed, wrapping his limb around his middle. She gave a gasp of concern, reaching forward, and he shot her an icy glare of pride that made her withdraw her hand back to her chest, lips turned into a pout.

"Ok, ok, I get it. Fine" she sighed, raking her hand back through her hair before breathing out to steady herself and then looking at him closely. The constant reminder of his sacrifice for her made guilt gnaw at her stomach, so she tried desperately to look at him and find something she could offer. She gave a snort of frustration.

"I don't know! It's hard to get over the obvious stuff like…"

"My head?" he asked, gesturing with a swirling motion to his cranium.

"Yea…" she said softly, guiltily. And then she looked away and avoided his gaze.

God, what was she doing? Trying to find something about him that she was attracted to? For what purpose? So she would feel less guilty that he'd saved her life, and she was getting ready to turn him down? She'd be leading him on, just as he led her on. It was an exercise in cruelty, but neither of them could seem to stop it. To admit that their attempts to talk things through were perhaps futile.

There could, and never would be anything between them. She just didn't feel it when she looked at his slim, blue face.

Then why had she felt the need to stay and wait to see if he was alright?

"This is never going to work is it?" he said softly, sadly.

"Give me a break. You're an alien," she spat back at him, the words flying from her lips as she grew angry with herself, the situation and his insistence that they sort this out now. She wanted to go home. Have a shower. Eat some ice cream. Then go to bed.

Not discuss whether or not she found a blue alien who had once been her kidnapper, attractive.

"Queen of Obvious Statements today, aren't we?"

"Shut up!" she shouted, stamping her foot. He shut his mouth tightly, but his eyes remained angry. Stubborn.

He wasn't going to let this go until she gave him and definitive answer. No shower, ice cream or bed until she answered the questions: Did they have a future? Could they go back to the way they'd been together as Roxanne and Bernard, but without the disguise?

"Fine. Alright. Lemme try again," she insisted, hands up, eyes closed. She took a breath to fortify herself.

"Please, we have all the time in the world," he snapped back, sarcasm dripping from his words as he stood with one arm spread wide, head at a sharp angle.

"Ok. You have the same build as Bernard," she assessed, trying to fight past his sarcasm. Shower ice cream bed. Shower ice cream bed.

"I'm surprised you could surmise that much, given the GIGANTIC distracting power of my bobble-like head," he muttered under his breath snarkily.

She snapped.

"Hey! Quit it alright? Do you want me to talk, or not?" she cried back at him, stamping one fuzzy-slippered foot again. Instead of feeling just anger this time though, her throat bubbled with emotion and she tried to push down the emotions of the day from frothing up to the surface. If he was going to put her on the spot, after all he'd put her through recently, he could at least have the decency to let her try without his sharp comments cutting her down every time.

"Yes, I'll be quiet," was all he managed meekly, seeming to be cut off at the knees by her slight sniffling and watery eyes.

She wanted this day to end. She wanted this confusing pain in her head and chest to end. She wanted him to stop staring at her with Bernard's sad eyes. The eyes that made her want to squeeze his hand comfortingly like she might have done with the shy bespectacled man.

She just kept going, pushing away the urge, trying to work through his appearance by talking about it as the thoughts came.

"Well, aside from the skin…" she began, trying to imagine Bernard's face overlapping his, seeing the similarities and differences. "...and the head, and being practically anorexic, you're pretty human like."

And he was. Just a little oddly proportioned in terms of his weight. She didn't see anything that might have come straight out of a Sci-Fi movie, like extra arms, tentacles, or mandibles instead of a mouth. As far as aliens go, or at least the media's portrayal of them, he was as close to a human as you could get. Shrink the head, and dye the skin; he'd be John Doe from down the street.

"Two hands, two feet. All ten fingers and toes I assume," she half asked, half stated, rubbing her arm against her nose with sniff before tilting her head at him, her eyes becoming a bit clearer.

"Present and accounted for," and he waggled his hand at her in answer.

"Your face is pretty normal, if you ignore the forehead," she mused, and dared to move forward into his personal space, reaching a hand up. Was his skull just that large? She wondered whether it felt the same as a human. Would she feel the bone through the surface? It would have to be similar to a human's. Any softer or harder, and he'd have gotten serious brain damage over the years from repeated blunt force trauma.

Hesitating for a moment, especially when she saw how wide his eyes became, she eventually forged forward and touched her finger to his bare head and then down his brow. She was curious about the feel of his blue skin, especially after what she'd felt of his hands during their brief and awkward hand shake. And if he wanted her to truly weight the options and get to know him, he needed to let her sate her curiosity.

Call it penance for all the things he'd put her through.

"Mmhmm," he hummed, wetting his lips and swallowing noisily. He was shaking.

Roxanne would admit, she kind of liked the power she felt having him like that. Maybe that's why he liked being a villain. Having the control to make someone tremble did feel pretty good.

Bolstered by that, she used that same finger to give him a quick poke to his chin, ending in the barest of pinches with her thumb and forefinger, wrinkling her nose with a smile at him.

"I've always found it cute how you have this little goatee."

It must be in the Super Villain Handbook. Right after the section on capes and maniacal laughing: All Villains must have facial hair. Curly pencil moustache or a goatee are acceptable examples.

"Uh-huh." He looked like a terrified animal.

"And you have green eyes, just like Bernard. But they're a different green than normal green."

"Y-yes. I… I can't change eye colour on my holograms… If I did… it would require… shooting high-intensity laser optics directly into the retina which can damage sight. So… I don't."

"Why are your eyes almost neon?" she asked, moving closer. The reporter in her was on auto-pilot, asking the questions that came to her mind while she analyzed him like a test subject.

"I have no idea. They just are," he squeaked.

"They're nice. I always liked them on Bernard. Except his glasses were in the way."

"I like your hair," he suddenly blurted.

"What?" she blinked, leaning back slightly in some shock.

"Your hair. I like it," he whispered, flicking his gaze up to her brown tresses which she touched self consciously, a faint little smile capturing her lips. She shyly dipped her head in embarrassment, a bit touched by the compliment.

"I… I like when you touch it," he mumbled and she was no longer touched, and just a little bit freaked out.

"Excuse me?" she asked flatly, one eye brow raising. She put more distance in between them.

"I'm sorry! That was idiotic and vaguely disturbing. I'm nervous."

"Nervous? Why?"

"Because!" he snapped harshly and he took a steadying breath and then tried again in a softer voice. "Because. I want to…" and he trailed off.

What did he want to do? Roxanne glanced toward the edge of the scaffolding and her potential exits.

"I want to touch you. I want to pretend I'm Bernard again."

"Really?" She was nervous about what 'touching' he was talking about.

"Yes, of course! It was torture just trying to stop myself when I was Bernard! Now, the rules have entirely changed, and I don't... I don't know what to do."

Based on his words and tone, the type of touching was the innocent kind. Not the moderately voyeuristic 'I watch you while you sleep' sort of thing she'd been imagining after his hair comment. Roxanne relaxed a little.

"You could... start with my hand?" she said thoughtfully and held up her left appendage invitingly. Hand touching was a good place to start. Safe. Comfortable. Normal. Nothing creepy.

"Your hand?" he asked, dumbstruck.

"Yea. We could hold hands I guess?"

"Really?" He brightened.

"Yep. I'll even let you squeeze it. That's like, second base in hand holding," she teased with a wink, wiggling her fingers at him tauntingly.

"Don't mock me," he chided, pointing a finger at her in warning.

"I'm not. I promise. Here." And then she reached for his bare hand and intertwined their fingers together for the first time, trying not to make it seem like that huge of a deal, despite the way her heart squeezed a little.

"I've... never held your hand without gloves on. Or a hologram," he observed softly, looking up at her with a small grin. Sheepish. Shy. But pleased. She smiled back in kind.

"That's true. Am I taking your bare-hand holding virginity?" she asked, and she was true to her word by squeezing his palm gently, and he managed a squeeze in return. He looked delighted and frightened all at once.

"Remember, no mocking!"

"Ok, ok. It's nice though, right?" It was nice. Simple. Normal. She'd held hands with other men before, and it had felt the same. Just like holding hands with Bernard in the park.

He was smiling at her the same way he had then too.

"Yes, it is. What now?" he asked.

What now. A good question.

She stared down at their hands for some time as she digested the information she'd gathered already.

He was similar enough to a human. Holding hands felt the same. He was obviously capable of interacting with humanity in an acceptable way if he passed for being Bernard for so long without anyone catching on. And there was the whole idea of him turning over a new leaf to consider.

He could do a lot of good for the city, given the right motivation. The right person at his side to help guide him.

She could be considered his friend, at least. She was the one who knew him best perhaps in the whole city. Not that she would use his feelings to manipulate him... but, well, he could use a positive role model to help him make decisions.

And the idea of him gone from her life... No kidnappings anymore, no Minion, no Brain-Bots. No Megamind... It left a big emptiness in her chest.

"We just... take it step by step I guess."

"So you want to…?" he pushed.

She grew quiet, looking at their hands together while mulling her thoughts over in her mind before speaking.

"… I haven't had much time to sort through what I'm thinking or feeling about you M. This was the first time I ever even really thought about what you looked like. I'm not promising anything. But today, you proved you can act in a way that I really respect and admire. That's definitely a step in the right direction."

"Well, I like steps in the right direction. And I like that you don't hate me."

"I don't hate you M," she admitted with a sigh, knowing that much was at least true. She couldn't hate someone who had risked his life for her so readily. "Let's just… not put labels on it, and maybe just see where it goes?"

"That's the best idea I've heard all day," he smiled again and then, hands still entwined, they turned to look across the bay toward the city once more.

They stood in companionable silence, simply watching the waves of the water in the bay pressing against the shore. They watched night steadily approaching, the city's light pollution keeping the scene bright as each building began to glow on its own. Wind swept up with the scent of smoke, fresh water and natural air, hitting them with a blast of cold chill that made Roxanne laugh a little, her hair suddenly flying in a tornado with the breeze. The strands fell back to rest across her brow, criss-crossing and dishevelled and she looked up at them in exasperation.

Suddenly, his hand was gone from hers and reaching up, brushing her bangs back across her forehead and smoothing them down into place, taking the last, longer chunk within his grasp and finishing the motion by slipping it behind her ear lovingly. Roxanne stood frozen at the oddly intimate gesture and just watched his face.

He smiled dreamily at her, until he saw the way her eyes were wide, and she was holding her breath.

Then he looked at his hand, resting beneath the shell of her ear, buried in her hair.

He pulled it back quickly, stammering out sounds and syllables that never really made words.

"M. It's ok."

"…It is?" he blinked at her, and a small smile came to her lips, a blush spreading across the tops of her cheeks.

"I don't mind," she shrugged, and tucked the same hair behind her ear again, by habit, laughing softly at herself.

She laughed because it was true. She hadn't minded. Maybe been a bit shocked, that was true, but there was something romantic and chivalrous about a man stroking your hair that made a girl feel alright about it. Call her a sucker for a smooth move, but she'd always melted for things like that on the big screen. Matthew McConaughey and Jennifer Lopez. Rachel McAdams and Ryan Gosling. She'd grow teary-eyed and swoon, and that little girl inside of her who wishes she was a Princess would cry out to have the Prince that would treat her like that.

Four year old Roxanne never imagined the first person to do that to her would have blue skin.

"Really?" Megamind perked up, seeming delighted that she didn't mind the interaction. Then his eyes grew a little more foggy and distant, watching her intensely. "Because I've always…"

"Always what?" she tilted her head at him curiously.

"Wanted to do this…" he half whispered while moving even closer to her, timid at first as he raised his hand, hesitating, before plunged forward and slowly touching her bangs once again. He moved his hand back across her temple, sliding fingers into the thick of her hair at the side of her head. Her eyes grew half lidded, and she made a soft little noise in the back of her throat.

Well that felt better than it had any right to.

He mussed her hair in his hand, running his fingers through it again and again, his expression one of a young child first discovering bubbles. Filled with wonder and a need to see it done again and again.

Her eyes were almost entirely shut now, Logic being forced to take a back seat while she indulged in a little girlish fantasy time, enjoying that tingling in her scalp when his fingers massaged and stroked and played with her hair. He acted as if he was a man.. who didn't have any hair and had never felt it before.

How curious to think that perhaps he'd never touched a woman's hair before. Roxanne belatedly wished she'd had the time to style it properly, so the strands would have been softer, shinier, prettier. Then he could have really felt it at its best and enjoyed it all the more.

Definitely not something to be thinking about for someone uninterested in a relationship.

Perhaps she was giving off some very bad signals, eyes closed and head tilted as she was, soaking up his attention like a love-starved teenager. Logic swam to the surface in her brain just as she was preparing to open her eyes, only to feel his body move suddenly closer to hers, so their chests met.

Her eyes fluttered open just as his lips descended on hers in a simple kiss and she heard herself inhale sharply with surprise.

And for the second time in 24 hours, Roxanne found herself staring at his blue, angular face, engaged in a kiss she wasn't prepared for.

He'd squeezed his eyes shut tightly, not in the relaxed, blissful way they had been at the restaurant, but in terror. Fear. His eyebrows were drawn down in a cringe. His hand was tightly gripped into the hair at the back of her head, not enough to hurt, but as if he were desperately clinging to something to balance him during a moment of insanity.

He was preparing to be rejected. Already wincing before a blow could even be dealt. He knew he was taking a leap, pressing her too hard, stepping over a line, but he'd done it anyway.

Like the old Megamind. The fool hardy, head strong idiot who stumbled and screamed his way through life, always one step ahead of the disaster licking at his heels, never thinking of the consequences. And he'd always avoid the rubble at the other end of his mistakes, look back at the chaos he had nearly been enveloped in, and then whoop with glee at his latest 'success'.

This was the Megamind she knew. Mixed with a little bit of the Bernard that made her heart skip a beat.

This was somewhere in between. A perfect blend of the criminally insane, with the perfectly sweet.

She kissed him back.

Kissed him for the relief that he was still in there somewhere, and not beaten and reduced to a sad shell of a man. Kissed him as thanks for him still being alive after putting himself on the line to save her. Kissed him for realizing his potential to be more than just the villain who never wins.

Roxanne Ritchi kissed him because sometimes it's ok to dream you'll become a Princess. Sometimes life hands you little moments where you get to pretend you're a damsel in distress, and someone does come riding in to save you. She'd felt a bit like that for the majority of her career as a kidnappee. Her White Knight always came to sweep her away, but there was never any sunset shot, where they kissed with the amber glow on the horizon putting them in profile. Yet here she was, sun setting at her back with that big screen-worthy kiss. She'd been kidnapped. She'd been held hostage. And then she'd been saved.

Maybe she liked black and spikes better than white anyways.


End file.
